


when the music is gone

by somehowunbroken



Category: DCU
Genre: Angst, M/M, Post-Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-02
Updated: 2012-11-02
Packaged: 2017-11-17 14:55:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/552802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somehowunbroken/pseuds/somehowunbroken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the planet is shaken by events that are later called the Disasters, every major city in the world experiences what Gotham went through in No Man’s Land. It’s business as usual in Gotham; they’ve been through this before, after all. Things start to get out of hand when Batman is ambushed and brought down; after that, heroes drop one by one as the rogues dig in and tear Gotham apart.</p><p>When Dick tells Tim that he’s leaving Gotham, Tim refuses to go with him, knowing that if he stays he can help. He turns to Jason, one of the only tentative allies he has left in the city, and together, they try their best to save a city that it might not be possible to save.</p>
            </blockquote>





	when the music is gone

**Author's Note:**

> This is my story for [dcu_bang 2012](//dcu-bang.livejournal.com/)! I had a ton of fun working on it, and would not have been able to do it without help from shinysylver, and an amazing amount of hand-holding and beta work from ariadne83. This story would be nothing without them.
> 
> I was lucky enough to work with two artists for this fic! Please check out the incredible art from [firefox1490](http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b277/karisah/firefox.jpg) and [chibifukurou](http://i21.photobucket.com/albums/b277/karisah/chibi.jpg). Let them know how awesome their art is - it's really great!

“We have to leave,” Dick says two months after the Disasters hit.

Tim can’t blame him, not really. There’s not much left in Gotham. It’s hard to find anyone to protect; nobody’s innocent, not when you have to beg and steal and beat people down just to survive the day. That’s nothing compared to surviving the night.

Still, though. “I can’t,” Tim says, and it’s the same argument he’s given each time Dick has brought up leaving. “Gotham is home, Dick.”

Dick looks absolutely exhausted. There’s no reason he shouldn’t; power has been intermittent, and food and water supplies are dwindling faster every day. It’s like No Man’s Land all over again, except there’s less of a promise of hope, less of a chance that the world outside would one day get their heads on straight and lend a hand. There’s not much left outside of Gotham, either.

“There’s a group of survivors outside of Metropolis,” Dick says. Tim nods; Conner has been by every week, trying to convince Tim to leave Gotham, to move to the settlement and help out there. It’s the first time Dick is bringing it up, though, and it feels more significant, somehow. It’s probably in the way that Dick is looking at him, like he’s got something to say but isn’t sure how to say it.

“I’m going,” Dick says finally.

Tim stares for a minute. “What?”

“I’m going,” Dick repeats. “I can’t – Tim, this is no place to live. If we concentrate our efforts in one place, all of us-”

“Gotham needs us,” Tim says firmly.

“Gotham needs more than we can give her,” Dick says, quiet, resigned. “She always has, Tim, but after all of this – without Bruce-”

Tim can’t help the noise that escapes him, raw and hurt. There’s a part of his mind that wants to believe that Bruce is lost in time again, or off with the League, or a million other places. The rest of his mind has more or less blocked out the feeling of Bruce bleeding out under his hands, choking and gasping and-

“We can’t leave,” Tim whispers. “We can’t, Dick.”

Dick looks like he’s ready to cry. “We can, Tim. I have to.” Tim looks up sharply, and the look on Dick’s face is the bleakest thing Tim has ever seen. “I’m taking Damian. We’re leaving tomorrow.”

Tim stares at him, uncomprehending. “What?”

“We’re going,” Dick says. “This is no place for a kid to grow up, and for all that he’s Robin, Damian is just a _kid_. I need to get him out of here.”

“He’s not your son, Dick,” Tim snaps.

Dick shakes his head. “Family isn’t about blood, Tim,” he says quietly. “You know that as well as any of us.” He hesitates. “We’re all he has left. We’re all that any of us has left.”

“Dick,” Tim says, but he’s got nothing, no way to respond to that.

Dick looks at Tim earnestly. “Come with us, Tim. You and me and Damian, we can make it to New Metropolis, no problem. We can start over.”

“No.” It’s past his lips before he can think to respond, and Tim is shaking his head and crossing his arms over his chest. “Dick – we can’t – _I_ can’t. This is what Bruce _died_ for.”

“It’s not what he would want you to live for, though,” Dick says quietly, standing and heading for the door. He pauses long enough to rest his hand on Tim’s shoulder. “Please, Tim, give it some thought. We’re leaving tomorrow around noon, so there’s plenty of time to get what you need packed up.”

Tim doesn’t say anything as Dick squeezes his shoulder and leaves.

-0-

“Please,” Dick says once more. He’d managed to jam more in the saddlebags on his bike than should theoretically be able to fit, supplies and weapons and memories alike. There’s a large pack secured around his torso. It’ll slow their progress, but Tim knows Dick well enough to know that there’s not a single thing packed that he’s in any way willing to leave behind.

“I can do more good here,” Tim says. He’s even reasonably sure that it’s true. “I have to stay, Dick.”

“I hope you understand why I have to go,” Dick says softly. He glances to his left, where Damian is strapping his own saddlebags down. He’s far too young to be handling a bike of that size, but he’s always been big for his age, and it’s not like they can’t use the extra saddlebag space that Damian’s larger-than-normal bike affords.

Tim just nods. “Take care of him,” he says stiffly. Dick looks at him for a minute before pulling him into a tight hug.

“Stay safe, Tim,” Dick whispers into his hair. Tim nods against his chest before pulling away.

“Conner can get a message to me,” he says. “Just – when you get there.”

“I’ll have him tell you,’ Dick promises. He looks like he wants to grab Tim up in another hug, so Tim takes a step back and wraps his arms around himself. Dick closes his eyes and swallows before turning on his heel and heading for his bike.

“Drake.”

Tim runs to see his younger brother looking at him. Damian doesn’t have to glance up to meet Tim’s eyes anymore. “Damian.”

“Be well,” Damian says simply. “And – thank you.” He holds his hand out, and Tim takes it.

“You’re welcome,” Tim replies. “What for?”

“For…” Damian swallows. “For continuing where Father left off. For not giving up simply because he’s gone.”

“Dick isn’t giving up,” Tim protests automatically.

Damian shakes his head and glances at Dick. “He’s doing what he thinks is right, and I’m going with him because that’s what I have sworn to do. He’s not necessarily wrong,” he adds. “But that doesn’t mean that I wouldn’t rather be here anyway.”

Tim is once again struck by how smart Damian is. A lot of his brain is still buried in his age, well hidden beneath layers of immaturity and hostility, but there are moments where Tim is hit in the face with how astute Damian really is. “I’ll do my best,” Tim says.

“I know,” Damian says. He squeezes the hand that Tim is still holding before letting it drop. “Keep Grayson informed. He’ll be insufferable otherwise.”

“He’ll be insufferable anyway,” Tim points out, and Damian shoots him a rare grin.

“Even so,” Damian says, making his way to his own bike.

Dick turns to Tim when they’re on their bikes, hesitating before pulling his helmet on. He stares for an extended moment before heading up the ramp, and Damian follows behind him without another glance back.

Tim waits until he can’t hear the roar of the bikes before shutting and bolting down the entrance. Things that were hidden before the Disasters aren’t so well protected anymore, and Tim doesn’t want to have to deal with intruders tonight.

He pulls up a map of the route that Dick had laid out. A month ago, the trip would have taken two days by bike, maybe three. With what they’ve been able to glean about the condition of the interstate system across the nation, Tim figures they’ll be lucky to make the trip in a week, and knowing Dick, they’ll be making stops along the way to lend aid where they can.

Tim looks at the map for a few minutes before closing the window and pulling up another file. He leans back in his chair, studying it.

Dick hadn’t taken the Batsuit. Batman is a creature of Gotham; he always has been, and he always will be. Dick had gone out as the Bat after Bruce had died the week after the Disasters had struck, when the security measures at Arkham had finally failed and the mass of escaped prisoners had descended on Batman while he was on a rare solo patrol. The Batsuit is still in the Cave, and Dick and Damian will be Nightwing and Robin in the new settlement.

Tim considers his options for most of the afternoon. The information in the file in front of his face doesn’t change, and Tim goes back and forth in his head, wondering himself in circles for hours. Finally, he picks up the phone and dials the number in the file.

“This is Red Robin,” he says when the message informs him that his party can’t be reached. “I need to talk to you. You know how to find me.”

-0-

Tim is looking through a few files on missing rogues when the knock sounds on the motorcycle entrance. It’s an old signal, one of the first that Tim had used as Robin; that confirms who the visitor is even before Tim pulls up the security camera, and the face scowling up at him is exactly who he’s expecting when he glances at it. Tim taps a few keys and the door opens up.

“Jason,” Tim greets when his guest walks in. “How have you been?”

“Same as everyone else in this town.” Jason spreads his hands. “So, shitty.”

Tim doesn’t laugh. It’s not an inaccurate description. “Dick’s gone.”

Jason freezes in place. “Who-”

“No, sorry, poor choice of words,” Tim cuts in, holding up a hand. “Dick left this morning with Damian. They’re heading towards the settlement outside of Metropolis.”

There’s a pause while Jason takes in a breath and lets the tension out of his shoulders. It’s not like any of them are especially close to Jason, but none of the Bats have ever been one to waste a resource, and those have been few and far between since the Disasters. Jason has been more in the fold over the past month than he had been since his return, and he’s made it perfectly clear to those loyal to him that the Bats are not to be trifled with.

“So, what, you’re calling me to give me the family bulletin?” Jason finally says.

“I have a proposition for you,” Tim replies. Before Jason can respond, Tim says, “I want you to wear the suit.”

Jason goes still all over again, but this time, it’s the kind of still that comes from disbelief. “I’m sorry, the fuck did you just say?”

“I want you to wear the Batsuit,” Tim repeats. “I can’t, not without some major modifications, and now that Alfred-” Tim swallows hard. “I can make them on my own, but if you’re willing to wear it, I won’t have to.”

“What’s the catch?” Jason asks suspiciously.

Tim just shrugs. “If you want someone dead, you put your own gear on and do it as Red Hood. That doesn’t touch Batman, no matter who’s wearing the cowl.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it,” Tim confirms. “You’re already patched into what’s left of our network here. Since Dick and Damian are gone, it’s pretty much only you, me, and Selina anyway. I’ll get you access to whatever you need if I can, and honestly, there’s not a lot that I can’t get into with enough time, so that shouldn’t be a problem.” Tim pauses. “Are the terms acceptable?”

Jason’s smile is grim. “I’d say it’s like my birthday and Christmas all at once, but even I’m not deluded enough to think this is a good thing.”

“You’ll do it?” Tim persists. He wants the words from Jason, needs to hear that he’ll do what Tim has laid out for him.

“I’ll do it,” Jason confirms. “Bullets are for Red Hood, batarangs for the Bat.” He pauses. “Any chance I could crash around here, since I’m going to be wearing black and brooding more than normal?”

Tim hides his surprise. He had been so certain that talking Jason into moving to the Manor would take time. His hideouts must be in worse shape than Tim had thought, if he’s asking. Then again, given the areas that Jason tends to frequent, it isn’t altogether surprising.

“You can have any of the free rooms,” Tim says. “Your old room is still available, but for some reason I don’t think that would be your first choice.”

Jason shudders. “The shrine to my lost youth? Yeah, no. I’ll find something else.”

Tim nods and sits back in his seat. “I’m not going out tonight,” he says. “Selina has something to take care of, and I wasn’t sure if you’d agree, so I’ve set up some remote surveillance and had planned to keep one eye on that while I spent some time studying a few back cases.” He nods towards the screen, where his files on Scarab, Clayface, and Black Mask are opened. “I’ll change the security to recognize you and get you an updated set of codes.”

“Just like that,” Jason mutters. Tim doesn’t turn around; he doesn’t really want to know what the look on Jason’s face is like at the moment. “Okay, great. I’ll grab what I can salvage from my latest flops and be back here in two hours.”

“Do you need backup?” Tim asks. He’s seen some of Jason’s bolt holes. They weren’t in the good parts of Gotham before, and now that there really aren’t any good parts of Gotham, some of those locations are outright war zones.

Jason just shrugs. “Not the kind that you’d want to provide, baby bird. I’ll be fine.”

Tim does turn at that. “Jason,” he says clearly. “I’m not Bruce. I’m not Dick; I’m not even who I was before all of this, not really. If you need me to carry a gun for the sake of carrying a gun, I can do that.”

“Would you draw it if you needed to?” Jason shoots back.

“If I had to, yes,” Tim says, meeting Jason’s eyes. “It will be my last resort, but it’s not something that I’m unwilling to consider.”

Jason studies him before nodding. “Follow me,” he says, heading back towards the entrance. “I’m parked just outside. We’re hitting three locations, and one of them is over the river.”

Tim nods back. “Do you want me to carry?”

“Not now,” Jason says, “but I reserve the right to change my mind if the situation looks bad when we’re going in. You’re armored like that?”

“Well enough,” Tim says, grabbing his heavy bike jacket and his collapsible staff. His helmet follows, and by the time he gets outside, Jason is astride his own bike at the end of the long drive.

Tim taps the button to close the entrance and follows Jason into the twilight.

-0-

The first two places they stop are relatively okay; they’re not places that Tim wants to stay in, but they’re safe enough.

The third… is not.

Jason signals when they pass the most decrepit-looking building on the block. There are two guys lingering by the doorway, and Jason speeds up when he gets near. Tim hits the throttle and follows him to a parking lot a few blocks away.

Jason tosses something at Tim before he gets the bike fully stopped, and it’s only reflex that has Tim reaching out to catch it. It’s a thigh holster, and Tim very carefully doesn’t think about what he’s doing as he dismounts the bike and adjusts the straps to fit around his leg. When he looks up again, Jason is holding a handgun out to him.

“If you’re going to freak out, do it now,” he says. “The guys at the door probably aren’t going to give me trouble, but if they see I have armed backup, it’ll go even more smoothly.”

Tim nods. “Should I go for ‘creepy and silent’ or ‘incredibly interested in sharing all I know about guns’ for this?”

Jason grins. “You think you can creep them out, be my guest. They’re not friends of mine.”

But they’re still alive, Tim considers, which means they haven’t done anything too far off the rails. Jason hasn’t exactly been lenient since the Disasters.

“Let’s go,” Jason says, and sets off down the road. Tim follows three paces behind, shifting his mindset as they walk. By the time they reach the building, Tim has blanked his face completely, leaving his arms hanging loosely by his sides. Jason comes to a stop a few feet from the men, smiling widely. “Hey, guys! Long time, no see. What, you missed me?”

“Not likely, Hood,” the first guy snorts. Tim files the information away quickly; apparently these two men know who Jason is out of costume, if not by real name. “You got something we want.”

“I’ve got lots of things that lots of people want,” Jason says breezily. “I’m pretty sure I’m not going to feel like sharing with you.”

“Who’s your friend?” the second guy asks, narrowing his eyes at Tim. Tim had been studying the building, but he lets his gaze sharpen and focus on the second man.

“Meet Jeremy,” Jason says casually. “He’s someone that I _do_ feel like sharing with.” He leans in like he’s telling a secret. “Actually, I’m going to share your company with him, that’s how much of a sharing mood I’m in right now.” He turns to Tim. “Don’t let them follow me.”

Tim flicks his gaze to Jason, nods, and returns his eyes to the men in front of him without saying a word. Jason disappears into the building.

“Tough guy,” the first one sneers after a minute, “what, ain’t you gonna talk?”

Tim lets his smile come out as bitter and sharp as it wants to. The guy doesn’t exactly shrink away, but there’s the feeling that he’d like to do just that. Tim rests his hand lightly on the butt of the gun in the holster, playing with the end of the strap holding it to his leg.

“Freak,” the second guy mutters. “Seriously, where does Hood find even find someone like that? Bet he doesn’t even understand what we’re saying. I bet he’s one of them-”

Tim has the gun out and shoved into the guy’s windpipe before he can finish the sentence. “Don’t presume,” he hisses, thickening his natural Gotham accent and pitching his voice higher than it normally carries. He knows from long experience that for something like this a higher register is far, far more disturbing than a lower one, and besides, he can pull it off more easily. He holds his pose for a few seconds for dramatic effect, and is just settling the gun back into the holster when Jason comes back out of the building, something wrapped in a blanket and tucked up under his arm.

Jason’s whistle is low. “Wow, what did you guys say to Jeremy? He’s usually such a nice guy.”

“He’s a psychopath,” the first guy splutters. “We didn’t do nothing to your boy, Hood. He just-”

“Right, I’m sure,” Jason cuts him off. “Jeremy, you good, princess? I mean, if you want to shoot him, I’m not gonna stop you, but do it quick. We’re on a timetable.”

Tim makes a show of tilting his head to the side and running his eyes up the first guy and down the second. He turns to Jason after a long moment and smiles as sweetly as he can.

“Sounds good,” Jason says. His grin is wild, and it reaches all the way up into his eyes. “Well, it was no fun at all seeing you two. Let’s not do this again any time soon, okay?”

“Jesus,” one of them mutters as Tim follows Jason back towards their bikes. “ _Jesus_.”

“Okay, I admit, I’m impressed,” Jason says when they get back to the bikes. “Those are two up-and-coming toughs for the gang trying to take over the Ghost Dragons territory. I’m not high on their favorite people list, since I took out their cousin a few nights ago. They looked ready to slit their own wrists if it got them away from you, though, so good job all around.”

“Charming,” Tim says. “What do you have that they want?”

Jason shrugs. “Information. Weapons. Probably some of the food they think I hide in there.” He flashes a grin. “Not that I’d leave that behind. That’s stashed elsewhere.”

Tim nods and climbs back onto his bike. “Are we ready to head home?”

Something flickers across Jason’s face too quickly for Tim to make it out before he nods and gets on his own bike. “Lead the way.”

-0-

The craziest thing about the plan is that it works.

It works really well, actually. It takes far less time than Tim thought it would to settle into a rhythm, and other than Selina’s reaction the first time she works with Jason in the Batsuit, there aren’t any issues.

“No,” Selina says flatly when Tim lands just behind Jason. “You’re insane if you think I’m working with him.”

Tim opens his mouth, but before he can start in on a defense, Jason shrugs. “You don’t have to like me, Catwoman, and neither of us are going to make you work with me if you’re not up for it. We’re what’s left, though, so it might be better for everyone if we can settle the score and learn to work together.”

Selina crosses her arms over her chest and narrows her eyes at Tim. “Bruce would never have made this call.”

“Bruce never would have had to,” Tim says quietly. “Please, Catwoman. We’re doing the best we can.”

There’s a tense moment where Tim is sure she’s about to flip off the roof and out of their lives, but after a few strained moments, Selina lets out a breath and puts her hands on her hips. “I’m not making out with this one on any rooftops, Red Robin, so don’t ask that of me.”

Tim chokes on a laugh as Jason sputters. “What, you don’t want a piece of this?”

Selina arches an eyebrow. “I slept with your father, kitten. Do _you_ really want a piece of _this_?”

“Well,” Jason drawls, dragging the word out as he obviously looks Selina up and down. “If you’re offering-”

“Dream on,” she says, and there’s a hint of a laugh in her voice that Tim hasn’t heard in far too long. “Look, I’ve got to take care of something up on Ninth and Fortuna tonight. You boys want to come along for the ride?”

“We’re in,” Tim says before Jason can make any more lewd comments. “Lead the way.”

The night is uneventful; Selina’s business turns out to be intel-gathering that she doesn’t really need backup for, but it’s good to present a solid image when they can. They split up not long after, Selina heading out to Robbinsville while Tim and Jason fly towards Aparo Park. Neither of them speaks until they’re hiding in the shadows, looking around for trouble.

“So that went well,” Jason says as they watch a couple of kids walk through the park. It’s dark and it’s late, but it isn’t as if they’re going to miss school. Half of the high school collapsed after the third earthquake, and the flooding completely took out the junior high and elementary on the east side of the city. The mayor had declared everything closed _until further notice_ , and that notice hasn’t come.

“It did,” Tim replies, watching the kids hurry along until they’re out of his line of sight. “Better than I thought it would, really.”

Jason snorts. “You thought she’d hate me.”

“She was in love with Bruce,” Tim says simply. “She didn’t like Dick wearing the suit, even if she understood why he did it. Frankly, I’m surprised she didn’t leave as soon as she saw us coming.”

“Yeah, well,” Jason says, spreading his hands. “There’s not a lot to work with in Gotham, and there’s a lot of Gotham to work with.”

“Yeah,” Tim agrees. There isn’t much to add to that, especially not after Jason stills and focuses on the shadows in the southeast corner of the park. Tim turns his head and speaks as quietly as he can. “Trouble?”

“Probably,” Jason says grimly. “You want to tag along, or can I do this one without a shadow?”

“We’re all about the shadows,” Tim deadpans. Jason snorts, and Tim can almost feel him rolling his eyes beneath the cowl. “Go for it. Signal if you need backup.”

“You got it, baby bird,” Jason singsongs, darting for the edge of the roof. He jumps silently, and Tim watches as he springs on the group of men gathering where he’d had been staring. The fight is short and brutal, ending with Jason shaking out his fist and signaling for Tim to join him as the three guys groan on the ground.

“Red,” Jason greets when Tim drops down, and Tim is almost taken aback with how eerily similar his voice is to Bruce’s. It makes sense, on a certain level; he’d spent long enough living with Bruce and longer still obsessing over him. Tim shakes it off and cocks his head. “I do believe these enterprising young men know a few things about the Triads.”

Tim makes a show of looking at the men. One of them has dropped into unconsciousness since Tim left the roof, but the other two are still whimpering. Tim lets his smile twist harshly as he recognizes the two thugs as the guys he had intimidated the week before outside of Jason’s bolt hole. “I do believe you’re right, Batman.”

“We don’t know nothing,” the first guy sputters. “And we ain’t – we ain’t telling you nothing!”

“Good to hear,” Tim says conversationally. “Did you hear that, Batman? He’s not telling us _nothing_.”

“Sounds like he’s got a lot to tell us, then,” Jason says, squatting next to the guy on the ground. “Tell me, Rawlins, what _are_ the Triads planning for this nice park?”

“We ain’t telling you nothing,” the second guy spits, and Jason lashes out and hits the guy’s leg with a nerve strike without even looking. The guy howls, curling around himself.

“You’re Batman,” Rawlins says, eyes widening. “You don’t hit guys when they’re down. That’s the devil kid’s job, and he ain’t been seen in a week.”

“Well, someone has to take up the slack,” Tim says, hunching down between Rawlins and the other man. “We figured we’re the best equipped to do it, now that Robin has moved on to greener pastures.”

“Fuck, I want my-”

“Oh, God, please say ‘lawyer,’” Jason says, huffing out a laugh. “Or ‘phone call.’ That would also be hilarious.”

“Or ‘teddy bear,’” Tim adds, and Jason laughs again.

“Fuck you,” Rawlins spits. “You ain’t gonna hurt me.”

Jason tilts his head thoughtfully. It’s only years of looking for the tell that lets Tim see that Jason is glancing at him through the cowl. Tim gives a minute shrug, and Jason grins, wide and sharp, before jabbing two fingers into Rawlins’ shoulder. Rawlins screeches, and Jason continues to smile down at him.

“Here’s the thing you need to understand,” Jason says, holding Rawlins by the shoulder he had just hit. “I’m Batman, yes, but I’m not the last Batman who had you in this position. The rules change with the regime.”

“Batman don’t kill,” the second guy says. He’s curled protectively around his torso which, given how likely Jason would be to strike for his stomach, is probably a wise decision on his part.

“Batman didn’t kill before, Soto,” Jason says, not even sparing him a glance. “You might not have noticed, but Gotham’s crime rate has skyrocketed lately. I’m responding in kind.”

“How do you know our names?” Soto demands, shrinking into a tighter ball.

“Being Batman gives me magic,” Jason says seriously, poking at Rawlins’ shoulder until the man starts squirming under the touch. “Look, we can do this the easy way or the hard way. It’s up to you.”

“The hard way involves more broken bones,” Tim supplies, flicking his staff out into an idle near-to-ready position. “The hospital isn’t much use anymore. I’d suggest choosing the easy way and telling Batman what he wants to know.”

“Jesus,” Rawlins mutters, just as he had when they’d left him on the sidewalk outside Jason’s hideout. “Fine, okay, we might know a few things.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Jason says approvingly, clapping him on the shoulder hard enough to make Rawlins wince again. “Do tell.”

They split up not long after, Jason to do some intelligence work on his own, and Tim to stop what crime he can. There’s more than enough to keep Tim busy for hours, and by the time he gets back to the Cave, Jason is already there. After cleaning up and making sure that there’s nothing to discuss, Tim drags himself upstairs and crawls into bed.

-0-

Tim wakes to a tapping sound on his window. It takes a moment for the noises to resolve into a familiar rhythm, one of the first ones they’d set up back in their Young Justice days.

“Conner,” Tim says, lowering his batarang. Sure enough, when Tim walks to the window and peeks outside, Conner is floating a few feet away. Tim opens the window and steps back, and Conner flies through, grabbing Tim in a hug before he can get another word out.

“I worry about you,” Conner says as he lets Tim go. There’s almost always a frown on his face these days, and it’s present and accounted for as he studies Tim. “Are you eating? You don’t look like you’re eating.”

Tim smiles. “Yes, Mom, I’m eating. How are things in New Metropolis?”

Conner sighs and sits on the edge of Tim’s bed. “Some days are better than others. Mostly it’s a mess and a half, but everyone is trying, you know?”

“I know,” Tim agrees, sitting next to Conner. “Anything new and exciting?”

“Your brothers made it in one piece,” Conner reports. “Dick says to say hi, and the brat wanted me to let you know that he’ll hold you personally responsible if any further harm comes to Gotham under your watch.” He snorts. “As if he’d be able to tell.”

Tim smiles. “It wouldn’t be easy, but I have faith in Damian’s ability to nitpick until I want to throttle him.”

Conner’s grin is quick. “Sounds like him, yeah.” He shifts on the bed. “I don’t suppose you want to come back to New Metropolis with me, do you?”

“Conner,” Tim sighs.

“It’s just that I don’t like the idea of you being here alone,” Conner goes on. “It was bad enough when you had Nightwing and Robin here as backup, but now you’re on your own. You’re the one who taught me not to pull that kind of stunt, man, and I’m pretty much invulnerable.”

Tim scrubs a hand across his face. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s good to know that all of those lessons sank in, but they seem to be coming to light when it’s least convenient for me.” He sighs. “Would it make you feel better if I told you that I wasn’t on my own?”

“Only if it’s true,” Conner shoots back.

“It’s true,” Jason says from the doorway. Tim isn’t surprised that he’d appeared, though he hadn’t known that Jason could be so quiet about it. Jason nods curtly. “Superboy.”

“Tim,” Conner says, not taking his eyes off of Jason, “is that who I think it is?”

Tim nods. “Conner Kent, meet Jason Todd. Jason, you clearly recognized Conner.”

“What the actual fuck,” Conner says evenly. It’s the calm tone of voice that tends to come right before Conner flips out, so Tim reaches out and puts his hand on Conner’s arm. “So I’m going to go ahead and guess that you didn’t alter the Batsuit, and that the reports I’ve heard about Batman were actually him?”

“I asked for his help, Kon,” Tim says. “Jason agreed to-”

“Well, yeah,” Conner says sarcastically, finally tearing his gaze away from Jason and turning to Tim. “You gave the crazy guy the one thing he wanted more than anything in the world. I’m not surprised that he ‘agreed to’ whatever it was that you proposed.”

“Conner,” Tim starts, but Jason snorts from the doorway.

“I’m not crazy,” Jason says, tapping a finger against his head. “I’ve got a pretty good handle on the Pit madness, actually. Sometimes I hear voices, but I’m pretty sure that’s a common thing in our line of work, and I’ve gotten good at ignoring them.”

“That’s really not helping your case,” Conner says, folding his arms over his chest.

“That’s really not your call to make,” Jason tosses back. “Look, baby bird asked me to wear the suit and ditch the guns. I figured hey, why not, I look fantastic in black and sulking, so here we are.” He spreads his hands. “My city is falling apart, kid. I’m just doing what needs to be done to hold the pieces together.”

Conner narrows his eyes for a moment before turning to Tim. “Just like that?”

“Close enough,” Tim replies. “He’s not carrying when he’s dressed as Batman, Conner. You can tell Dick that when you get back to New Metropolis.”

Conner’s nod is sharp. “You’re always welcome to come,” he says as he stands and heads for the window. After a moment’s hesitation, he glances at Jason. “You, too. We need all the help we can get.”

“Touching,” Jason says as Tim says, “Thanks, Conner.”

Conner nods again, and then he’s out the window and gone, flying due west.

“Well, he’s charming,” Jason drawls as Tim closes the window. “Your friends are so nice, baby bird.”

“Most of my _friends_ remember you trying to kill me,” Tim says, engaging the locks and pulling the curtains shut again. “I’m just glad that that didn’t end in attempted bloodshed.”

“Could have been interesting,” Jason replies with a yawn. “I’m going to get a few more hours of sleep before we head out tonight. I’ll see you later.”

“Sleep well,” Tim says absently, staring at the window.

-0-

Gotham is crumbling to pieces. It’s not news at this point, but it’s disheartening to see nonetheless. Tim lands on the building just behind Jason, and stumbles almost immediately on the loose bricks of the roof. Jason reaches out a hand to steady him, and Tim nods his thanks.

“He should be here,” Jason says quietly, tapping at a hidden button on the side of the cowl. Tim does the same, and switches from normal lenses in his mask to x-ray, then to thermal, then to night vision. There are people in the building, but as far as Tim can tell, they’re residents. Or squatters, really, because there are still some people acting as landlords in Gotham, but nobody would pay to live in a building as close to literal condemnation as the one he and Jason are looking at.

“Who are we looking for?” Tim asks, flicking his lenses back to normal and looking over at Jason. “I know you got a few tips on patrol last night, and you don’t have to share everything with me, but I can’t be effective backup if I don’t know the parameters of the situation.”

“Hush now,” Jason says almost absently. From anyone else, the tone would be dismissive, an indication that the speaker had stopped paying attention. From Jason, it means that his full concentration is required for something else. The way that Jason is leaning forward, squinting behind the lenses of his mask, tells Tim that he’s definitely found what he’s looking for. “I think I see him.”

“Name, body type, give me something,” Tim mutters, switching back to night vision and focusing in the direction that Jason is pointing. “Really, I do need some sort of-” He falls silent when he sees someone swing over the side of the roof.

“Red,” Jason says after a minute, and Tim startles and takes a breath. “I figured we could take him out. You up for it?”

“I’m ready,” Tim says, completely devoid of emotion. He watches as Captain Boomerang jogs lightly across the roof of the decrepit building. “This one is mine, though. Are we clear?”

“I figured you’d say that,” Jason says, and there’s a grim little smile on his face when he turns to Tim. “I have no problems with you taking the lead here, Red. Let me know what the plan is.”

“Back me up, but don’t jump in unless you see me go down,” Tim says, standing and grabbing for his grapple gun. “Last hit is mine, no matter what.”

“Ten-four,” Jason says, clapping Tim on the shoulder. “After you, fearless sidekick.”

Tim ignores the jibe and shoots his grapple gun, legs out as he flies across the street. He slams into Boomerang’s side, twisting as he falls so his knee jams into Boomerang’s side. He skids as he hits the roof, sliding a few feet and jumping back up immediately.

“Ah, Red Robin,” Boomerang says, smiling with something close to manic glee when he looks up at Tim. “I had heard you survived the Disasters. More’s the pity.”

“For you,” Tim snarls, pulling his staff from its compartment and snapping it to its full length. “Get up.”

“I think I’ll stay here,” Boomerang says, stretching obnoxiously and clasping his hands over his chest. “The view is so nice.”

“Get. Up,” Tim repeats, jabbing his staff at Boomerang and stopping it an inch from the bridge of his nose. “I’m not going to tell you again.”

“See, if I get up, you’ll try to hit me with that stick,” Boomerang says thoughtfully. “If I stay down here, you’ll just poke me a few times before cuffing me and taking me – oh, wait,” he says far too happily. “There’s no such thing as jail anymore, so you’ll just have to let me off with a warning, won’t you?”

Tim swings his staff and shatters Boomerang’s left wrist.

“Nice,” Jason says approvingly from somewhere off to Tim’s right. “That’ll keep him from throwing his little toys for a while.”

“He’s got two hands,” Tim says, tilting his head to the side and watching as Boomerang sucks in breath after breath. He’s sitting up now, all traces of humor gone from his face as he cradles his hand to his chest. “Do you think I should break the other one, Batman?”

Jason crosses his arms over his chest. “You could go for a leg. He’s not going to toss explosives around if he can’t make a quick getaway.”

“True,” Tim says, spinning his staff and driving it down. Boomerang twists away at the last second, rolling to his feet. He’s pale and sweating slightly as he narrows his eyes at Tim and Jason. _Shock_ , Tim’s brain supplies helpfully.

“Good to know that you’ve finally snapped,” Boomerang says, backing towards the edge of the roof. His broken wrist is against his chest, and he’s got his other hand in his pocket. “Next time, I’ll throw first, ask questions never.”

“You’re not leaving,” Tim says, taking a step forward.

Boomerang smiles again, a thin blade of a grin. “Oh, I think you two have better things to do than chase after little old me.”

“I don’t think we do,” Tim says. “Batman?”

“Nope, chasing you sounds like the plan for the night,” Jason agrees. “Run, run, as fast as you can.”

“Tick, tock,” Boomerang says, and when he pulls his hand out of his pocket, Tim’s heart starts pounding in his chest. He’s holding a detonator, and he smiles widely as he presses the button and flings himself backwards off of the roof.

“Motherfuck,” Jason spits, running to the edge of the roof and glancing over. “I didn’t hear anything go up. Think he’s fucking with us?”

Tim flicks his lenses on and looks around. “No,” he says calmly when his gaze lands on a small box tucked inside the roof access door of the building they’re standing on. A tap to his mask zooms his lenses in, and another makes one lens gray out and start displaying readings. “There’s a ticking box in the entrance over there. I don’t see a timer, so I don’t know how long we have.” Tim flicks his lenses back to normal. “We need to evacuate the building.”

“Mother _fuck_ ,” Jason repeats, looking at the door. “Is it rigged to the door, or can we-”

“I’ll be careful,” Tim replies, heading for the entrance. “I’ll work my way down. You start on the ground floor.”

“Meet you in the middle,” Jason agrees, jumping off the side of the building.

Tim turns and heads for the door.

-0-

“Correct me if I’m wrong here,” Jason says, crouching on the roof next to Tim and looking down at the street, “but we’re kind of responsible for making all of those people homeless, right?”

Tim sighs as he surveys the crowd. There are twenty-six people, ranging in age from mid-fifties to about nine months, if Tim is any judge. “We’re at least partially responsible, though I’m going to go ahead and give the lion’s share of the blame to Boomerang.”

“Right,” Jason says, nodding. “So we should probably find a place for them to stay, before one of the gangs decides that they look like good pickings.”

“Probably,” Tim agrees. The bomb had set the top two floors of the rotting tenement on fire, and the fire department has long since been disbanded. Tim counts it as luck that this particular building hadn’t been particularly close to any others.

“So,” Jason says, and the precise way he’s not fidgeting draws Tim’s attention. “I might have an idea.”

“I’m not going to like this, am I?” Tim asks, turning to face him.

Jason shrugs. “We have a lot of free rooms back at the Manor.”

Tim takes a moment to stare. “You want to bring them home?”

“It’s practically a family tradition,” Jason says, flinging a hand out. “Bats collect strays. It’s what we do. Look, there’s even a dark-haired kid with blue eyes that we could stick in a suit-”

Tim snorts. “Fine, we’ll bring them back to the Manor,” he says. “I’ll call Superboy and see if he can find them places in New Metropolis, but I guess your friends can sleep over for a few nights.”

“Thanks, Mom,” Jason singsongs, laying an obnoxious kiss on Tim’s cheek before swinging for the street.

Tim grins and follows.

-0-

“You’re Batman,” the boy on the couch says as Tim walks into the living room. It’s the kid that Jason had pointed out at the scene, the dark-haired blue-eyed boy he’d joked about sticking in the Robin suit. “You’re Batman, and this is your house.”

“Well,’ Tim says, “no, I’m not Batman. I’m Red Robin.” He smiles. “You can call me Tim.”

The boy’s face splits in a grin. “Awesome. I’m Justin.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Tim says. “What are you doing in the living room, Justin?”

Justin shrugs and glances to the side. “Nothing.”

“You wanted to meet Batman,” Tim guesses, grinning when Justin’s face flushes. “You know what, Justin, I think I can make that happen. Wait here, okay?”

Justin nods eagerly, and Tim smiles as he walks down the hall. There’s nobody in the den when he walks in, so he slips behind the grandfather clock and heads down into the Cave.

“Jason,” he calls as he walks down the stairs. “You’ve got an adoring fan who’s just dying to meet Batman.”

Jason snorts from the computer console. Tim glances at the screen, but Jason minimizes the window before Tim gets a chance to see what it is. “Which one?”

“His name is Justin, and if you actually suggest becoming Robin to his face, he’d probably take you up on it,” Tim says. Jason arches an eyebrow, and Tim shrugs. “He was sitting in the living room on the off-chance that you walked in. He’s definitely an admirer.”

“Right,” Jason mutters. “If I mention Robin at all, even in passing, you have full permission to kick me in the balls after they move out.”

“Noted,” Tim says with a grin. “Also, for the record, I’m really glad that everything that goes on in the Cave is taped. Now, if I have to take you up on that, I can at least play back your consent to it.”

Jason winces as he stands. “Extra incentive to keep my mouth shut,” he says. “Living room?”

“Living room,” Tim confirms, moving for the computers. “I’ll stay down here and see if I can-”

“Who’s going to keep me honest?” Jason interrupts. “I mean, there’s no way _I’m_ going to tell you if I slip up and tell the kid he can have the scaly greens.”

Tim raises an eyebrow. “What don’t you want me to see?”

Jason crosses his arms over his chest. “If I wanted you to know, I’d already have told you.”

“Is it going to bite me in the ass if I let it go?” Tim asks, tilting his head.

“Eventually,” Jason nods, “but it will whether you look at it now or you wait until we can talk about it later.”

Tim glances at the computers and sighs, turning back towards the stairs. “Then I’ll go with you,” he says. “No way do I want to miss out on the opportunity to get a free shot in.”

“That’s the spirit,” Jason says, clapping him on the shoulder. “Lead the way, baby bird.”

Justin’s face lights up when Tim and Jason walk into the living room. “Batman?”

Jason smiles at him. “That’s me, yeah. You’re Justin, right?”

“Yeah,” Justin says, bouncing to his feet and holding his hand out. “Thanks for saving us.”

“Hey, that’s what I do,” Jason says, shaking his hand. “I’m glad we could help you out.”

“No,” Justin says, “I mean before. The other time. You saved me and Jannah and my mom when we were getting mugged.”

“Ah,” Jason replies, shooting a look at Tim, who shrugs. “You’re welcome for that, too. I’m glad you’re still okay.”

Justin’s face falls slightly. “You don’t remember.”

“I’m sorry,” Jason says, dropping to the couch and gesturing. Justin sits back down. “I try to remember everyone that I help, but the truth is, Red Robin and I have helped a lot of people over the years, and even more than usual since the Disasters. Sometimes I forget.” He leans in and drops his voice. “The Bat part doesn’t forget anything, but the man part isn’t so good at keeping all the details straight.”

Justin laughs, and Tim has to school his face to keep from smiling. He’d had no idea that Jason was good with kids.

“So where’s Robin?” Justin asks, and this time Tim doesn’t bother hiding the grin as Jason shoots him a panicked look.

-0-

“That didn’t count,” is the first thing that Jason says as they walk back to the Cave. “Come on, I didn’t bring it up and I did my best to change the topic.”

“Okay, I’ll let it slide,” Tim says, amused. “Just this once, though.”

“My balls thank you,” Jason says sincerely. Tim raises his eyebrow, and Jason snickers. “So do you think I talked him out of it?”

Tim shrugs and slips behind the clock, holding the door open as Jason follows. “I think we should probably make extra sure he leaves with his mother, but that’s the paranoia talking.”

“Owning it is the first step,” Jason says, clapping him on the shoulder. “Now we have to work on stopping it.”

“Right,” Tim says. “Speaking of paranoia, what were you looking at when I came down before?”

“You know what, on second thought, the paranoia suits you,” Jason replies, smirking. “Keep it up.”

“Jason,” Tim says, narrowing his eyes.

Jason jogs down the last few steps and heads for the computers. “I was looking into your buddy,” he says, pulling up the file he’d minimized before. Captain Boomerang’s face fills the screen, scowling out from his mug shot. “I don’t think either of us were expecting him to pull the shit he did tonight. I wanted to check his file, see what his usual MO is.”

“Boomerangs,” Tim says flatly. “Sharp ones, exploding ones, ones that leak toxic goop when they slice you up.”

“And now he’s setting bombs instead of tossing his toys,” Jason says, frowning at the screen. “Assholes like this don’t usually vary their shtick, and when they do, it doesn’t mean anything good. Either we’re looking at some sort of psychotic break here, or-”

“-or he’s teaming up with someone,” Tim finishes. “Lovely. Just what Gotham needs – criminals who decide to team up to get more bang for their buck.”

Jason sits in the chair and starts typing. “There aren’t too many people left with that kind of knowledge. Unless it’s someone new…” He trails off and tilts his head at the screen. “Work with me here. Look at the database, see if there’s anything there we can use.”

Tim nods and sits at another monitor, digging into the police reports. He’s got completely open access to the GCPD’s system, something that would have made him giddy before, but it’s hardly ever useful now. The force is destroyed; only the biggest problems get a response. Tonight, though, should have been big enough to draw out Gotham’s finest.

It doesn’t take long to pull together everything there is to see in the database, and Tim emails it to Jason before sliding his chair over to watch what Jason is doing. The email program pings, and Jason brings up the information, arranging the screens so Tim’s findings are side-by-side with his own.

Jason runs his fingers through his hair. “I wish I could say I’m surprised, but nothing that freak does is surprising anymore.”

“Don’t say that,” Tim replies, still staring at the picture of the Joker. “He’ll come up with something even worse than normal just to spite you.”

There’s a list of crimes below the Joker’s photo. With most of the people in their database, it’s a list of individual events; with the Joker, it’s a list of types of crimes, with a few details about his usual MO beneath each header. Tim leans over and clicks into the _bombings_ section. The screen switches to a list of events that have been linked to the Joker over the years, and somewhere between _components identified_ and _signature_ , Tim pinches his nose and sighs.

“Great,” he says. “Your worst nightmare and mine are working together.”

“Today just keeps getting better and better,” Jason says. When Tim glances over, Jason has his arms wrapped tightly across his chest, eyes narrowed at the screen. “They’ve never paired up before. What’s so different now?”

“Gotham is falling apart,” Tim says. “Worse than she ever was, I mean. It was like a playground for them at first, but now it’s an all-out war zone. You make allies where you can in war.”

Jason snorts and looks at Tim. “Yeah, I got that memo.”

Tim feels his lips twitch. “I didn’t mean you.”

“I’m wounded,” Jason says, clapping a hand over his heart and swooning in the chair. “And here I thought we were doing so well!”

“You’re ridiculous,” Tim replies, letting the smile break over his face. “You really, really are.”

“I’ll take it,” Jason says, grinning. “I’ve been called worse.”

“You’ve been called worse _today_ ,” Tim points out. “So, what’s the plan?”

“Sleep,” Jason says. “Bed, sheets, pillow. Hell, I’m gonna get fancy and use two pillows at once.”

“We have to-”

Jason holds up his hand, and Tim falls silent. “Are you at the top of your game right now?”

“Of course I’m not,” Tim says. “I can still work, though. I have hours left before I crash.”

“The plan is to not get to the point where you have to use the word _crash_ to define your sleeping habits,” Jason replies. “This will still be here in the morning.”

“But-”

“But nothing,” Jason says, narrowing his eyes. “We did a lot of work tonight, Tim. We fought the bad guys, we ran around, we evacuated a building. We moved almost thirty people into our house. I think we earned a little bit of extra sleep.”

Tim throws his hands into the air. “The cowl has gone to your head.”

“No, it goes _over_ my head,” Jason says instantly. Tim groans, and Jason grins.

“Fine,” Tim mutters. “Sleep now, work later. I’ll just call Conner about relocating all of the-”

“Call him in the morning,” Jason corrects. “One, he’s probably asleep, and two, if you don’t leave now, I’ll find you passed out on the console in the morning.” Jason narrows his eyes. “I’m setting the alarm on the Cave to wake me up if you sneak back in here before the sun comes up.”

Tim groans again.

-0-

“I think we need to talk to Ivy.”

Jason drops from the high bar, where he’s been doing pull-ups for the past ten minutes. “What? Why?”

Tim taps the screen. “She’s set herself up in the middle of the city. She disappeared into the Botanical Gardens area when all hell broke loose in Arkham, and we didn’t pull her out because we had bigger fish to fry.”

“She spread, though,” Jason says, grabbing a towel and swiping at his face. “Weeds do that.”

“Right, and now she controls the reservoir area and what used to be Robinson Park in addition to the Gardens,” Tim says. “She’s literally in the heart of Gotham. She’s got eyes and ears all over the place, and since we’re not actively trying to bring her in-”

“-she might be willing to tell us what’s going on,” Jason finishes. He stares at the screen for a moment before continuing. “Do we bring something? A hostess gift? Miracle Gro?”

Tim snorts. “I think going in as unarmed as possible would be the smart move.”

“Also the dumb move,” Jason shoots back. “What if she decides to feed us to her giant Venus flytraps?”

“We run,” Tim says. “Fast.”

“Fuck you, I’m not going in unarmed.” Jason has his arms crossed over his chest, and his glare is the one he usually saves for when they’re on the street. “I’m not getting killed by an overeager vine looking to move up in the world.”

“I’m not suggesting you do,” Tim says as patiently as he can. “I’m not saying we should go in without protection, or without any weapons at all. I think we should leave the things that are most visibly threatening to her and her plants, and only take what we’d need to get out if she decides that Bats are food, not friends.”

“So you’re saying we should leave the fire thrower, but bring the fire thrower.” Jason nods. “Makes perfect sense.”

Tim narrows his eyes. “I’ll work on something. A gas, maybe. Some sort of toxin that we can conceal easily, but will give us a way out if we need it.”

“Right,” Jason says. “Miracle Wilt. Sounds awesome.”

“God, you’re grumpy when I interrupt your pull-ups,” Tim says, turning back to the computer. “I’ll synthesize something, and we can work out the details later. Go tire yourself out.”

“Can do,” Jason says, and Tim can hear the grin in his voice.

-0-

It takes nearly a week to synthesize a suitable toxin. It probably would have gone more quickly without the houseguests, Tim is sure, but moving them to New Metropolis is proving more difficult than they had anticipated, so the main floor of the manor is still occupied.

“Justin wants me to tell you that it’s ‘totally uncool’ that you won’t let him be Robin,” Jason says as he comes down the stairs. He waves a sheet of paper in Tim’s direction. “He made a list of reasons that you should let him do it and asked me to give it to you.”

Tim groans and drops his head to his hands. “Did you tell him that you aren’t exactly looking for a Robin at the moment?”

“Nope,” Jason says cheerily. “Figured I’d make you the bad guy.”

“Thanks,” Tim says as dryly as he can manage. Jason drops the paper to Tim’s console, and Tim straightens it absently. “Maybe I should talk to his mother.”

“That I did do,” Jason says, shaking his head. “I doubt she’s going to be much help, though. She’s kind of a mess.”

Tim frowns, thinking back to the group they’d escorted back to Wayne Manor. There hadn’t been any visibly injured or ill people in the building, though Tim knows as well as anyone that not all dangerous things can be seen with the naked eye. “Is there anything we can do?”

“No,” Jason replies. “She lost her husband a few months before the Disasters hit – apparently Bruce saved her and her kids on their way back from his memorial service.” He runs his fingers through his hair. Tim has learned by this point that he only does that when he’s aggravated about something. “Justin had a younger sister. Jannah. She died in the second earthquake when the section of Old Town that she was in collapsed.”

Tim blows out a breath and closes his eyes. “She told you all of that?”

“Bits and pieces,” Jason says. “She needs some heavy-duty therapy. It’s not just that she’s taking it badly; it’s more like she’s barely acknowledging that it happened at all, except when it hits her so hard that she can’t function.” He sits on the console. “I tried talking to her, but I ended up asking Justin.”

“I’ll tell Conner,” Tim sighs. “I have no idea if they have someone who can help her in New Metropolis, but he can get the word to some of the other settlements if he doesn’t have anyone.”

“At the very least, he can make sure someone is keeping an eye on her,” Jason agrees. “I think we should move those two to the top of the list when it comes to who leaves when. Staying here isn’t good for either of them.”

Tim nods, bringing up his email program and typing a message. Jason reads over his shoulder silently, and he nods when Tim turns and raises an eyebrow. “Sounds good.”

“Sounds good,” Tim agrees, sending the email. Conner only checks his account at night, but he’ll get back to Tim as soon as he can. It would be far faster to go to the roof and call for him, but it’s not an emergency, and there’s always something else that Conner needs to be doing.

“So,” Jason says when the email is sent, raising an eyebrow at Tim. “You wanted to show me something?”

Tim pulls up another screen, which is full of pictures of plants in various stages of dying. “I’ve prepared four vials for each of us. The two with green caps will stop the plants – basically, it slows the rate of photosynthesis down to the point that the plants can’t function. If she sends foot soldiers after us, we’ll be able to stun them and get out.”

Jason nods. “And the ones with the red caps?”

Tim smiles grimly. “Weed killer.”

“Nice,” Jason grins. “I’m assuming these are the standard vials, right? Pop the top, toss, run in the other direction?”

“Pretty much,” Tim says. “Try to get to your rebreather if you need to toss the green one, and definitely don’t inhale the red one without it. Other than that, just make sure they’re somewhere that they won’t get crushed.”

Jason nods, looking at the vials. “Do we want to do this tonight?”

“Sounds like a date,” Tim says.

-0-

From the outside, Robinson Park looks like an out-of-control forest. It’s almost as if the ground rose up and started taking back what the citizens of Gotham had once claimed as their own, except there’s been nowhere near enough time since the Disasters for this much growth. There’s no doubt that it’s Ivy’s handiwork, either. No natural overgrowth would include quite so many thorny plants, nor would there be an obvious door-shaped opening twisted into the brush.

“Think she knew we were coming, or is that an open invite?” Jason asks, jerking his chin towards the opening.

Tim shrugs. “Even odds, I’d say. I mean, we haven’t made it a secret that we were going to stop by, and if she’s got ears as widespread as we think she does, there’s no way she didn’t know.”

“But we can’t be sure,” Jason says. “It could be worse. It’s not like there’s actually an _abandon all hope_ sign above the prickly door.”

“Don’t give her any ideas,” Tim says, amused. “Ready?”

“I was born-”

“No,” Tim interrupts, “you were born _naked_. Your point stands, though.”

Jason snickers and gestures towards the opening, and Tim walks in with a grin on his face. It doesn’t last long, though; it’s eerily quiet beyond the first few turns of the path, and the plants have grown together overhead, so there isn’t all that much light. Jason switches on his flashlight after the first hundred yards or so, and Tim flicks the lenses in his mask to the low-light setting.

“Creepy,” Jason mutters after about ten minutes of walking. “We’re sure she’s in here, right?”

“Reasonably,” Tim says. “Honestly, I don’t keep close tabs on her anymore. There really isn’t anywhere else she’d be, and she isn’t actively causing trouble, so why bother wasting resources?”

“It’s not wasting them if you’re confirming that she’s here,” Jason argues. “Look, we haven’t seen anything that looks more alive than any plant should. If Ivy were here-”

“Uh,” Tim says, looking at the ground ahead of them. “Batman.”

Jason turns instantly, and they both watch as a vine creeps its way down the path to meet them. It stops about three feet from their position, rises into the air, and waves back and forth a few times before stilling at eye level.

“Do we talk to it?” Jason asks under his voice.

Tim gives a minute shrug. “Normally I’d say ‘it’s just a plant,’ but given how long she’s been in here…”

Jason clears his throat. “Ivy. We’re here to see you. We’re not interested in kicking you out of here, and neither of us are carrying matches.”

The vine waves in front of Jason’s face a few times, never getting close enough to touch, before it pulls back again. It retreats about five feet, pauses, and dances back towards them before heading down the path again.

“I think it wants us to follow it,” Tim says as the vine repeats its motions.

“Right,” Jason says. “Have I called this entire encounter creepy yet? Yes? Allow me to state it again for the record: this is creepy.”

“Well, at least we know she’s in here,” Tim says, starting forward. The vine pulls back farther as he approaches it, winding down the trail into the darkness. It never gets too far away to see, and after about fifteen more minutes of walking, it stops just inside what Tim can tell used to be the rotunda in the Botanical Gardens. The top is cracked, and there are plants growing out through the roof.

Tim glances around, but Ivy is nowhere to be seen. He flips through several settings in his lenses, but everything is registering as plant life.

“Not a good sign,” Jason mutters. Then he calls, “Ivy! We’re not here to hurt you.”

“You’ve already said that,” Ivy’s voice says from somewhere in the forest on the other side of the rotunda. “It’s only sometimes true.”

Tim steps forward and spreads his hands. “It’s true this time, Ivy. We’re here for information. You’re not a threat to us right now. You can stay here as long as that remains the case.”

There’s a long silence before Tim notices the shadows shifting just to the right of where he’s staring. He looks over just in time to see Ivy walk out of the forest, and he has to work to keep his features calm.

Ivy’s humanity has been relative since long before Tim became Robin. At her healthiest, her skin had barely held a trace of green, and her hair had been a sunny kind of red. That was years ago, though, and given that she hasn’t received proper treatment since the Disasters hit, her current state shouldn’t be as surprising as it is. She’s a nearly luminescent shade of green, with clothing that’s clearly made of living moss and vines. There are flowers in her hair – no, Tim thinks, they’re growing out of her hair. She’s more plant than human at this point.

“Speak your piece,” she says finally. “I won’t promise you anything. I see no reason to upset the peace I’ve made with the outside world.”

Jason laughs humorlessly. “You know, Ivy, I have the feeling that the peace you’re talking about depends on them keeping their word, not on you keeping yours.” He leans forward. It’s not quite a loom, but it’s not friendly. “Our history isn’t the best, I’ll admit that. You’ve tried to kill us; we’ve tried to uproot you. Nowhere in our shared history, though, have we gone back on our word.”

Ivy narrows her eyes and holds out her arm, and the vine that had led them to the clearing twines up and around her neck again and again, finally settling against her chest like a necklace. “So far.”

Jason shrugs his shoulders. “If we were here to take you out, we would have done it already. We’re offering you a blind eye in exchange for information, and we’ll stick to that as long as you share what you know and keep to your garden.”

“What do you want to know?” Ivy asks. “I’m not making you any promises, Batman. I’ll consider what you’re asking, but I’m not agreeing to anything before I know the full terms.”

Tim clears his throat. “We’re looking for confirmation of something, and a location if you have it.” He waits for Ivy to nod before going on. “We have reason to believe that some of the people from Arkham, people who were solo operatives before, are now teaming up. We’ve linked the Joker to Captain Boomerang, and we’d like you to confirm that they’re working together.”

“And you want their location,” Ivy surmises. She narrows her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest. Tim watches as one of the buds in her hair opens, petals uncurling to perch gently against her head. It’s disturbing and lovely in equal parts, which Tim figures probably says a lot about the things he sees on a normal basis, that he can still find beauty in something so bizarre.

Tim can feel Jason tensing beside him as time ticks on. He tries to subtly signal him to keep calm, but calm isn’t exactly a strong suit of Jason’s. Luckily, Ivy nods before Jason reaches critical mass. “They’re working together. It’s just the two of them for now, but they’re trying to recruit several more Arkhamites to their cause.”

“Which is?” Jason asks.

Ivy tilts her head up. “Killing you two.”

“Unsurprising,” Tim replies. “Batman and Joker, Red Robin and Boomerang. They want to take us out because we’re their foils, and they want to run the show.”

“We’re the ones who keep screwing with their plans, too,” Jason adds. “Though I doubt that they’d take the deal we’re offering to Ivy.”

“They wouldn’t,” Ivy agrees. “Nor would they believe you if you offered it to them.”

“They’re not getting the offer,” Jason says. “I only have so many get out of jail free cards, and I’m saving them for people who haven’t tried to kill me recently.”

Ivy laughs, which is a truly bizarre sound, something like birdsong and screeching mixed together. Tim doesn’t shudder, but he badly wants to. “I’ll keep to my garden,” she says. “You leave me in here, and I’ll leave you out there.”

“That works for us,” Tim says. “Are you willing to give us a location?”

Ivy pauses for a moment before nodding. “They’re not in the same place, but I do know where both of them are.”

-0-

The rest of the night is quiet in a way that feels more like the calm before the storm than real peace, but without any crime actually going on, there’s not much they can do. Tim taps on his radio at four AM. “Red to B.”

“What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Tim replies, and grins when Jason sighs into the comm. “I haven’t seen a thing since we got out here.”

“I was really hoping you’d found something,” Jason mutters. “This is the bad kind of good night.”

“I was thinking that, yeah,” Tim says. “I’m going to head back to base and see what kind of planning I can get done with the intel we got earlier. You coming, or are you going to sit out here just in case?”

“I would rather watch paint peel,” Jason says. Tim can hear the wind working through the cape as he speaks; Jason is already heading home.

“My ETA is fifteen minutes,” Tim says.

Jason laughs. “Race you.”

Tim is just getting off his bike when Jason roars in and skids to a stop fifteen feet away. “Damn,” he calls as he pulls his cowl off. “I call having to slow down so I didn’t run over a cat.”

“You don’t get a handicap in racing, Jason,” Tim says, amused. “Maybe next time I’ll let you win.”

“Let me?” Jason narrows his eyes. “Baby bird, the last thing I need is for you to _let me_ win. I’ll beat you fair and square.”

Tim pats Jason on the shoulder as he heads for the console. “Sure you will, Jay. Sure you will.”

“Bastard,” Jason mutters, but there’s more amusement behind it than heat.

“He really is,” Conner agrees from the staircase. Tim whips around so quickly that he nearly loses his balance. Conner waves and smiles tiredly. “If you don’t want me in here, you need to change the codes, man.”

“I change them every three days,” Tim says.

Conner shrugs. “Not the ones on your bedroom window, you don’t.”

“Is there something I need to know?” Jason asks, raising an eyebrow. “You can tell me, Tim. I’ve been known to swim in the other end of the pool from time to time, too.”

“Right, like I have the time and energy to devote to hiding a relationship from you,” Tim snorts. “I gave Conner the access codes a little while after the Disasters hit, because when he flew in here on the day of the second earthquake and I didn’t answer my phone, he blew a hole in the wall getting inside to check on me.”

“I had no idea you were sleeping,” Conner protests. “I didn’t even know your phone had the ability to turn off!”

Jason stares for a few seconds before tossing his head back and laughing. “Wait, so it was _you_ that Bruce was cursing when he was trying to find a contractor willing to come all the way up here the day after it all went to hell? I thought he had structural damage from the quake!”

“He did,” Tim says dryly. “In a really roundabout way.”

“Excellent,” Jason says, smiling broadly as he claps Conner on the shoulder. “You know what, you totally have my blessing to do whatever it is you do with Tim.” He grins as Conner splutters. Tim just rolls his eyes as Jason glances his way. “I’m gonna get started on that plan, okay?”

“Have fun,” Tim says, turning to Conner. “Breathe. In, out, in, out. He’s being a jackass. Ignore him.”

Conner’s face is still a little red, but he’s breathing normally again. “How do you put up with him?”

“Practice,” Tim deadpans. “Is this a social call, or…”

“Oh!” Conner straightens, suddenly all business. “I found a few places for your friends upstairs. Do you know that one of the kids is-”

“Yes,” Tim says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That’s Justin, the one I told you about. He and his mother are on the first trip out of here.”

“He knows that the clock is hiding the door,” Conner says.

Tim shrugs. “Either he hasn’t figured out how to open it, or he’s respecting the fact that we’d rather he not come down here. I know which one I’m betting on.”

“Yeah,” Conner snorts. “He’d be down here in a heartbeat if he could figure out how.”

“Probably,” Tim agrees. “Anyway, you said you have somewhere for them to go?”

“I have space for sixteen people in New Metropolis, and I talked to Cassie,” Conner replies. “She can take the rest of them in the San Francisco settlement.”

“Thank you,” Tim breathes. It’s a huge weight off his shoulders, to know that there’s a place for everyone to go. “”When?”

Conner shrugs. “I’m free for the rest of the night. I can play taxi, as long as they don’t have much luggage.”

“Conner, we pulled them out of a condemned building in the middle of the night so they weren’t caught in an explosion,” Tim says. “Most of them have exactly what they were wearing when we banged on their doors.”

“Point taken,” Conner says. “You want to break the news to the kid, or should I?”

Tim grins. “He might take that news better if it comes from Superboy,” he says. “He’s not happy with Red Robin right now. Jason was kind enough to let him think that I’m the only thing standing between him and becoming the next Robin.”

Conner laughs. “Of course he did.”

“You win some, you lose some, you blame Tim for the rest,” Jason calls from the console. “That strategy has yet to fail me.”

“Hey, same here,” Conner says brightly. “Eight years and counting. I’m calling this one solid.”

Jason holds up a fist, and Conner floats over to bump it. Tim rolls his eyes as they snicker at him. “If you two are done, we have some refugees to move.”

-0-

“I’m going out,” Jason says two nights later, and Tim turns away from the computers to look at him. Their planning has mostly led them in circles; Tim is pretty sure it’s because the fight is incredibly personal for both of them, and neither of them is willing to let the details get away from them. It’s been a frustrating couple of days, but now Jason is in his Red Hood outfit for the first time since moving in, helmet tucked under his arm, both guns securely in their holsters.

Tim pushes back from the console. “Want some company?”

Jason reaches down to tug at the strap on one of his thigh holsters. “We talked about this, Tim. You don’t have to come. I can handle it.”

“You’re going after the Joker,” Tim says, crossing his arms and leaning back against the console. “You’re planning on shooting him. I’m aware of this, and again, I’m asking if you’d like me to come along.” He tilts his head to the side. “Call it moral support, if that helps, or call it backup in case he has something up his sleeve that you didn’t anticipate.”

Jason rolls his eyes. “You’re not going to let me go by myself, are you?”

“If you want,” Tim says, not moving from his spot. “I’m not going to force my company on you for this. I know it’s personal for you. You knew I needed the support again Boomerang when we saw him the first time, and I know you’ll be there when I take him down, too. I figured I’d extend you the same courtesy for exorcising your demon.”

There’s a moment of silence before Jason blows out a breath. “You really have a way of getting under people’s skin, you know that?”

“I’ve been told,” Tim replies, amused. “Is that a ‘suit up, Tim or a ‘stay here, Tim?”

“Suit up,” Jason says. Tim nods and heads for the lockers, hesitating when he gets to Jason’s side. There’s a moment where he wonders if he should say something else, maybe clap Jason on the shoulder in some sort of show of solidarity, but it passes. He gets dressed quickly, walking over to join Jason at the bikes when he’s done.

“So what’s the plan?” he asks, watching as Jason pulls something out of his saddlebag.

Jason’s grin is humorless as he checks the gun and reaches for its holster. “Kill him,” he says, handing both to Tim.

Tim nods, straps the holster in place, and gets on his bike.

-0-

“Well, it’s lovely to see you both,” the Joker says, smiling his trademark cracked grin from the floor. “I have to say, I wasn’t expecting to run into you, Mr. Red Hood. You seem to give me an even wider berth than the rest of the flying rat parade.”

“Shut up,” Jason growls. He seems to be in control of himself; at least, Tim concedes, he doesn’t seem to be a danger to anyone besides the Joker. “You know why I’m here?”

“Let me think,” the Joker says, leaning up onto his elbows. There’s a streak of blood running down his face from where Jason had cracked him with the gun in the initial fight. It’s not that the Joker doesn’t normally look garish, but it’s even more pronounced with the addition of blood. “You’re here to put me back in that nice little padded cell.”

“Wrong,” Jason says, keeping his gun trained on the Joker. “Strike one.”

“It must be our canasta date,” the Joker says, putting a hand over his heart. “I know, I know, I was supposed to bring the snacks this time, but-”

“Strike two,” Tim says. “And your jokes are worse than normal. It’s good to have some sort of indication that the past couple of months have been as bad for you as they have for the rest of us.”

“You have such a poor sense of humor, Little Red Robin Hood,” the Joker pouts before brightening again. “Say, that one was better, wasn’t it? The pair of you,” he adds, as if the pun wasn’t clear the first time.

“Hilarious,” Jason snarls. He pulls the slide on the gun, and the sound of the bullet clicking into place echoes in the warehouse. The Joker throws his head back and laughs.

“Oh, I see I _did_ beat a sense of humor into you with that crowbar,” he gasps, grinning his ghoulish smile up at Jason. “See, I know your secret. Want to know what I know? Come closer.”

There’s no humor at all in Jason’s smile. “I’ll pass.”

“Be that way,” the Joker says, settling back down against the ground. “Your _secret_ is that you aren’t here to kill me. It’s against the religion of the Bat, and you brought his dearest disciple with you tonight.” The Joker waves a hand at Tim. “A little bit of light torture, maybe a broken limb or two? Sure, I can see that.” His grin looks like a private sort of victory. “You’re not going to murder me, though. It’s just not in your playbook.”

“Strike three,” Jason says, and before Tim can react, Jason levels the gun at the Joker’s head and pulls the trigger. His hands stay steady as he shoots twice more, and then he clicks the safety back on and slips the gun back into its holster.

The silence seems to echo around them for a moment before Tim takes a step forward. “Jason?”

“I’d like to say that I feel a lot better,” Jason says, staring at the body, “but I really don’t.”

Tim nods. “What do you need right now?”

Jason laughs, and it’s a shaky sort of thing. He brings his hands up to cover his face for a few seconds before shaking his head and dropping them to his sides. “I need to be sure he’s dead.”

“He is,” Tim confirms. There’s no possible way that anyone could have survived three headshots from that close, not even with the Joker’s usual bag of tricks. Looking at the body is more than enough to confirm that, but… “I can check the body, if you want.”

“Yeah,” Jason says, crossing his arms tightly over his chest. “Yeah, that would be good.”

Tim drops to his knees, doing his best to avoid the worst of the gore. He tugs his gauntlet off and reaches into one of the compartments on his bandoliers for a latex glove. It snaps easily into place, and Tim reaches out and checks for a pulse in the Joker’s wrist. He waits a full minute before setting the Joker’s hand down and taking the glove off, tucking it into his belt to be thrown away later. “No pulse.”

Jason’s nod is jerky as he stares at the Joker’s body. “So my normal operating procedure here would be to leave him for the cops to find,” he says after a moment. “Except there aren’t any cops left, and the last thing I want is for some, I don’t know, mad zombie scientist to find him and-”

Tim stands up, blocking Jason’s view of the body. ‘We’ll take care of it,” he says. “Eight feet down, lead coffin, salt and burn, whatever is going to help you sleep at night.”

Jason manages a smile that would seem normal if his hands weren’t still shaking. “I vote all of the above.”

-0-

It takes two hours to get what’s left of the Joker back to the Cave. Every time Tim asks Jason what he wants to do with the body, the answer is different; finally, Tim suggests restraining the body in one of the secure cells for the night and dealing with it in the morning. Jason agrees, so they roll the gurney into the refrigerated containment unit and pressurize the locks.

“That’ll hold,” Tim says. “We’ll set every alarm we have in the Cave, so if there’s any sort of movement at all we’ll be alerted.”

Jason crosses his arms over his chest. “I’m being ridiculous, aren’t I?”

“I think you’re entitled in this case,” Tim replies. “He’s a cockroach. He’s dead, we know he’s dead, but at the same time, it can’t hurt to take every precaution we can think of.”

“I’m being ridiculous and you don’t want to say it,” Jason amends. The corner of his mouth ticks up for a split second before he sighs. “Thanks for putting up with my bullshit.”

Tim blinks. “Of course. I mean, you’re welcome. I don’t-”

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Jason says dryly. “I said thanks, you accepted it not at all graciously. We can move on.”

Tim lets his smile show. “Noted. What now?”

Jason glances at the clock showing on one of the monitors. “I could go for some sleep. As it turns out, if you don’t keep the murder muscles toned, they fucking exhaust you when you try to use them again.”

“Sleep sounds good,” Tim nods. “I’m gonna hit the shower down here before I go up, probably grab a snack, but I’m actually not going to fight you on the sleep this time.”

“Hallelujah,” Jason says, flinging his arms wide and tipping his head back. “A Christmas miracle.”

“It’s October,” Tim says mildly.

“Christmas miracle,” Jason repeats, smile tugging its way across his face. “Go scrub down. I’ll make sandwiches.”

Tim shakes his head and heads for the showers, smile on his face. The water doesn’t get as hot as it used to, but Tim had figured out how to balance the workload on the generator months ago, so it’s not icy. His mind wanders as he washes, flashes of Ivy’s sanctum in the park and the refugees he’ll never admit he misses and the Joker’s body. He shudders as he turns the water off, grabbing for his towel.

Jason is sitting at the table when Tim gets upstairs, a plate of sandwiches in front of him, each cut neatly in half. He’s got one in his hand, and he uses it to gesture to the plate. “Eat up.”

“This is more food than I meant when I said ‘snack,’ Jason,” Tim says, reaching for a sandwich. He misses Alfred’s cooking pretty much every day, but especially in moments like this; he would have been able to find a way to make the raw white bread and peanut butter seem like a treat. It’s high in protein and it’s one of the only things that’s readily available, though, so Tim eats it without complaint. Well, without much complaint.

“So I was thinking about putting a movie in,” Jason says casually. “Something I don’t have to concentrate on. Something funny.”

“We have _Blazing Saddles_ on DVD,” Tim replies, smiling back when Jason grins. “The library and the den are both kind of a mess, though. We haven’t had a lot of time to clean up since our guests left.”

Jason shrugs. “We can move the TV from the library over to my room and watch from the bed. I’ll even let you have a sandwich on my sheets.”

“Gee, thanks,” Tim says, snagging another sandwich half from the plate and standing. “I’ll grab the DVD; you bring the food up. I’ll meet you in the library and we can move the TV.”

“You got it, boss,” Jason says, standing as Tim heads for the den. He frowns as he picks his way across the room to the DVD case; they really do need to take some time and at least shove the bedding out of the way, if not clean it up entirely. It’s a disaster area.

Jason has the cables unplugged when Tim gets into the library, so it’s a matter of minutes to walk the television down the hall and set it up in Jason’s room. In no time at all, they’re sitting against the headboard of his bed, sandwiches between them as Cleavon Little and Gene Wilder ridicule each other on screen.

“This is exactly what I had in mind,” Jason says when he finishes the last sandwich. “Hilarious movie, food in bed, and-” He stops abruptly.

Tim turns to face him. “And?”

Jason shrugs. “Not being by myself right now,” he says, not really looking at Tim. “I’m in for a hell of a nightmare when I fall asleep, probably followed by its uglier cousin.” He snorts. “The worst part about killing that psychopath is that he’ll never stop smacking me around in my head. Dead but not gone.”

Tim takes a moment to collect his thoughts. “I’ll probably sleep badly too,” he offers after a minute. “I do every time we run into the Joker. Him being gone doesn’t get rid of anything that he did to anyone in the past.” He smiles slightly. “It’ll sink in eventually that he’s really gone, that he can’t hurt anyone anymore, but tonight is going to be rough.”

“You didn’t have to come,” Jason says with a frown. “If you knew it was going to fuck with your head, you should have stayed here.”

“Of course I had to go,” Tim says. He doesn’t think before reaching out and squeezing Jason’s arm. “You back me up, I back you up. That’s how being partners works.”

Jason snorts softly and closes his eyes. “We’re kind of fucked up. You know that, right?”

“It’s not really a well-kept secret,” Tim says. “I mean, look at us. We weren’t exactly well adjusted before the Disasters, and after? Well, we’re the ones who stayed in Gotham.”

Jason has the ghost of a smile on his face when he opens his eyes and turns to Tim. “Crash here. We can wake each other up with all the kicking and screaming.”

“I’m a thrasher,” Tim warns. “You have enough bruises.”

“They’ll blend in,” Jason says, shrugging. “Unless you’d rather be on your own. I get that.”

Tim smiles and squeezes Jason’s arm again before dropping his hand. “I’ll go brush my teeth and grab some pajamas.” He stands from the bed and heads for the hall, pausing in the doorway. “Jason?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re sleeping in pajamas tonight, too,” Tim says. “Pants and shirt.”

“Spoilsport,” Jason grumbles, but he looks considerably lighter than he had when they’d started talking.

-0-

Neither of them admits out loud that sharing a bed lets them sleep more easily, but after the third consecutive night without waking in a cold sweat, Tim concedes the fact to himself. He’s not sure that it would work with someone else, someone who hadn’t been through what he and Jason have in the past few months, but when they collapse into bed together, they both wake up more rested for it.

“Morning,” Jason says, tugging at the sheets until Tim rolls out of his blanket cocoon. “You’re like a burrito in there. How do you sleep?”

“Warmly,” Tim says, stretching. “It might not be a bad idea to put another blanket on the bed. You don’t mind now, but when it gets colder out, you’ll probably freeze at night.”

Jason shrugs. “I’ll just burrow in with you.” Tim blinks, but before he can comment, Jason goes on. “Got a call from a cat earlier. We’re in the doghouse.”

Tim groans as Jason smirks. “How long have you been waiting to use that one?”

“Too long,” Jason says. “Selina is pissed that we went after the Joker without her. She said, and I quote, ‘I’m your ally, which means you call me before you do something stupid so I can try to talk you out of it, or I call you afterwards to yell at you for not bringing me along.’”

“Oops,” Tim says with a wince. “I don’t suppose she’ll take ‘everything turned out fine’ for an answer, will she?”

“Not likely,” Jason snorts. “She’ll be here in half an hour. I vote we tell her about Boomerang, so she can at least try to talk us out of it.”

Tim shakes his head. “I’m not letting him off the hook.”

“I wouldn’t ask you to, and I don’t think she’ll really argue the point because she thinks she’s going to win,” Jason says. “Take a shower and meet me in the Cave when you’re done. I’m making my specialty for our lunch with the lady.”

“Aren’t we almost out of peanut butter by now?” Tim asks, standing and heading for the bathroom. “I could have sworn we finished the jar last night.”

“I have a stash,” Jason says solemnly. “We will never, ever be out of peanut butter.”

Tim snorts. “I don’t even want to know.”

“You really don’t,” Jason says with a grin. “Shower.”

The water is colder this morning than it has been for the past few weeks, and Tim makes a mental note to check the generator. There’s only so much he can do to help it hobble along, and they need most of the power to run things down in the Cave, but it’s worth checking to see if it’s just something coming loose. If everything looks to be in order, he’ll have to reroute some of the power lines again.

Tim sighs. They’ll need a new generator after the winter. There’s just no way that this one will keep running for much longer than it takes the snow to thaw. He makes a mental note to start looking at schematics. Chances are good that he’ll be better off trying to make a new one than he would be looking for one.

Jason has a stack of sandwiches on a platter when Tim makes his way down to the Cave. He grabs one and starts munching, and it’s not five minutes later that there’s pounding at the main outside entrance to the Cave. Jason flicks the monitor on, and Selina’s face stares furiously up at them.

“Ouch,” Jason comments. “Think we should just leave her out there?”

Tim snorts. “Unlock it. I’ll go meet her.”

Selina is already halfway across the Cave before Tim can get to her. She rears back when she sees him, but instead of the punch that Tim is expecting, Selina launches herself at him, squeezing him tightly.

“Selina,” Tim gasps, arms coming up to try to pull her back a little. “Everything okay?”

“Don’t scare me like that,” she snaps, smacking him solidly on the shoulder as she lets go. “Are you out of your mind?”

“Hey, don’t hit him,” Jason interjects form the console. “I’m the one who decided we were ready to go.”

Selina’s eyes narrow. “Being Batman doesn’t mean I won’t hit you. I hope you’re aware of that.”

“Definitely,” Jason says. “I saw you hit B enough times to know that.”

Selina holds her frown for a few seconds before huffing out a laugh. “You two are really okay?”

“We’re really okay,” Tim confirms. “I’m sorry we didn’t alert you before the fact. We’ll do better from here on out.”

“Damn right we will,” Jason agrees, turning back to the computer. He clicks on a file, and a picture of Captain Boomerang appears on the screen. “He’s next on the list.”

“I thought he might be,” Selina says, crossing her arms over her chest. “Given your first target, it’s only natural that Boomerang would be your second.”

“We have-” Tim starts, but Selina waves a hand and goes on.

“I’m not blaming you,” she says, quirking a smile. “It’s just an observation, but you can be sure that if I made it, he’s made it too.”

“That makes things a little more difficult,” Jason says, narrowing his eyes at the screen. “I mean, he has to know that he’s not getting mercy from us. After what he’s done, and with the resource we don’t have anymore? There’s only so much mercy to go around, and he definitely hasn’t earned it from us.”

There are times when Tim can really see the feline in Selina, and this is one of them. Were she actually a cat, Tim is positive she’d be flicking her tail in annoyance. “Message received, _Batman_.”

“What? No! I-” Jason casts Tim a helpless look.

“Jason is fairly convinced he’s using up a large share of that mercy,” Tim says dryly. “That wasn’t a dig, Selina.”

Selina shrugs, but the tension bleeds out of her frame. “So what’s the plan?”

-0-

“I really don’t know why you thought this was a good idea,” Boomerang sighs.

Boomerang hadn’t known they were coming tonight, but he’d clearly been expecting them to show at some point. Tim thinks of Selina’s words in the Cave - _if I made the connection, he’s made it too_. She’d been right, and Tim can only watch helplessly as Boomerang grinds his heel against Selina’s left shoulder.

“Let her go,” Jason snarls, and Boomerang laughs outright.

“Oh, I don’t think so,” he says. “There’s a difference between the Joker and I. More than one, really, and more than the obvious one, too. Here’s something for free: I’m not as trusting as he was.” Boomerang lifts his foot, but he still has a sharp-bladed boomerang aimed at Selina’s neck. “You were able to hunt him down and kill him because he was willing to believe that you wouldn’t. Me? I’m not so naïve.”

“Good to know,” Tim says. The wrist that Tim had shattered is in a light cast; it hasn’t been long enough for it to heal that much naturally, but it wouldn’t be surprising if Boomerang has some unnatural help on his side. “Give it up, Boomerang.”

“No,” Boomerang replies. “Here’s the deal: let me go, and I won’t kill you tonight.”

“That’s a shitty deal,” Jason says. “How about you step away from the lady, and we don’t shatter your other wrist?”

Boomerang smiles widely. “I can live with that,” he says, and he tosses the boomerang at Selina and runs for the edge of the roof. He’s out of sight in seconds.

“Go after him,” Jason yells, and Tim snaps his focus back to where Jason is curled over Selina. The boomerang is a few feet away, and there’s a batarang sticking out from beneath it. Jason must have had it at the ready, Tim realizes.

“Is she-”

“She’ll live,” Jason says. “I’m not sure how much use she’ll have in that arm, though.” He pulls back enough for Tim to see that he’s pressing his cape against a gash in Selina’s shoulder. She has her eyes squeezed shut, and the blood is quickly staining the roof beneath her. “I can stitch it up when we get back to the Cave.”

“Catwoman,” Tim says, dropping to her side and grabbing her right hand. “How does it hurt? Bone, muscle, what?”

“Shoulder,” she rasps out. “Everything about my shoulder hurts. Nothing other than that.”

That’s either a good sign or a really bad one, and there’s no way to be sure without comprehensive medical knowledge. Tim looks up at Jason. “We can’t fix this. Not with what we have, and not with what she needs.”

Jason looks angry. “We’re not leaving her here,” he snaps.

“Of course not,” Tim says, narrowing his eyes. “We have another option.”

Realization dawns on Jason’s face. “Do it,” he says, holding the makeshift compress in place as he reaches into his belt for something more permanent. “Make it snappy.”

Tim nods, drops Selina’s hand, and walks to the edge of the roof. He takes a deep breath, turns to face the west, and says, “Kon-El, we need you in Gotham.”

It takes Conner less than a minute to appear in front of him. He scans Tim almost frantically, then turns and does the same to Jason. Tim reaches out and puts a hand on Conner’s shoulder. “Catwoman’s been injured. We need you to take her somewhere that can help her.”

Conner nods as he moves to Selina’s side. He puts his hand on her calf, and she gasps a few seconds later. Conner looks up at Tim. “I’ve got the arm immobilized with TTK, and I should be able to get her to the clinic in New Metropolis without any further damage.” He stands, and Selina levitates off the roof behind him. “You guys good here?”

“We’re fine,” Jason says. “Go.”

Conner glances at Tim, nods, and takes off. He and Selina are out of sight in seconds, and Jason turns to Tim. “Thought you were going to chase Boomerang down.”

“Not here,” Tim says, turning and heading for the edge of the roof. “Let’s call it a night.”

Jason leaps off the roof right behind Tim, and neither of them speaks another word until they’re back in the Cave.

“I should have,” Tim says as he walks to the changing area, pulling his cowl and cape off and tossing them at the laundry pile. He misses Alfred with a pang that hasn’t dulled at all since he’d died. “I should have chased him down, incapacitated him, stopped him.”

Jason nods, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. He’s already pulled his cowl back. “You didn’t.”

“I didn’t,” Tim repeats. “I’d say I was concerned for Selina, but that’s not all of it.”

“I figured it wasn’t,” Jason says. “Theories?”

“I don’t know what to do with him,” Tim admits after a moment. “It was easy for you. We chase him down, we rough him up, bang bang, he’s gone.” He takes a deep breath. “I haven’t killed anyone, Jason. I want him gone. I want to never have to worry about him hurting anyone again. I’m just not sure I can do it, not when I’m looking right at him.”

Jason unfolds his arms and lets his hands hang loosely at his sides. “Don’t ever say that was _easy_ for me,” he snaps. “It wasn’t easy. It’s never easy. The second it gets easy is the second I quit this, because there’s a thin line between _easy_ and _doing it for kicks_.”

“I’m sorry,” Tim says tiredly, unhooking his bandoliers and hanging them up. “That’s not – I didn’t mean to say it that way. You’ve found a way to live with it, though, and I don’t know how to do that. I think it might stop me, is what I’m saying.” He tries for a grin, but given the look on Jason’s face, it fails kind of miserably. “Think of it as something like professional jealousy, if that helps.”

“It really doesn’t,” Jason mutters, but the tension drops from his frame. He sighs after a moment and starts removing the suit. “God, we’re fucked up.”

“We are,” Tim agrees as he continues peeling himself out of his costume. “Bruce would bench both of us if he could see us right now.”

“No,” Jason snickers, “he would have done that the first time we woke up in the same bed.” He lowers his voice and draws his shoulders back. “ _Relationships within the community will compromise your judgment in the field._ ”

Tim laughs. “Not bad,” he says. “He would have jumped right to that conclusion, wouldn’t he? He would have just assumed we were sleeping together.”

Jason shrugs. “He might have been the best detective of all time, but he really sucked at applying those skills to his own family.”

“He did,” Tim agrees, sighing. “Doesn’t mean I don’t wish he was here.”

“You and me both,” Jason replies, tossing the last of his uniform in the laundry pile. Tim raises his eyebrow, and Jason shrugs. “It’s a lot of work, you know? Being _the Batman_.”

“I know,” Tim says. “If you don’t want to-”

Jason smiles sharply. “Don’t get ahead of yourself there, Tim. If you’re staying, I’m staying.” His smile softens a little at the edges. “Where else am I gonna get hot water, huh?”

“At least I know why you’re sticking around,” Tim deadpans. “You only appreciate me for my generator.”

“Don’t be like that,” Jason says, tossing his arm over Tim’s shoulders as they head for the stairs. “I like you for your ability to make things that aren’t sandwiches, too.”

-0-

Tim jerks awake before dawn breaks, breathing harshly. He’s been sleeping better for the past few weeks, but he’s not surprised to be waking up after the night they’d had.

Jason’s arm tightens around his waist. “Tim?”

“I’m fine,” Tim says. They both know it’s a lie, but it’s the automatic response for both of them at this point. “Go back to sleep.”

“Just a dream,” Jason says drowsily, rubbing his nose against the back of Tim’s neck. “You gonna be able to sleep again?”

Tim closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He holds it for a moment before letting it back out. “Probably not.”

“M’kay.” Jason squeezes Tim’s waist again before letting go and rolling away. Tim sits up, rubbing at his eyes until they feel less grainy, and when he opens them again, Jason is looking at him.

“You can go back to sleep,” Tim says. “I’m going to see if I can get a little legwork done, see if we missed any angles. I’ll be fine.”

“Call Conner,” Jason says, sounding much more awake than he had a moment ago. “He can give you an update on Selina, which should calm you down a little.”

Tim scowls. “When did you figure out what was going on inside my head?”

“I’m psychic,” Jason says, tapping his forehead. “And sometimes your dreams aren’t that different than mine.” He yawns widely before twisting until his spine pops. “I’m gonna see if I can shower my dream away.”

“You’re not going back to sleep?” Tim asks.

Jason shrugs. “I won’t sleep well,” he says. “Funny how that works: my giant-ass teddy bear gets out of bed, I lose the ability to sleep.”

Tim fights the smile twitching at his lips. “Keep insulting my ass, and you can learn to sleep on your own.”

“Anything but that,” Jason says, clutching his chest dramatically and falling back to the bed. “You know you have the best ass in Gotham, baby. Don’t hurt me by taking it away.”

“Only in Gotham?” Tim asks, arching an eyebrow.

Jason looks up mid-swoon. “There’s no way you worked with Dick for more than three minutes without looking at his ass. I’m sorry, but you’ve got some work to do if you want to reach Grayson levels of ass-perfection.”

“Take your shower,” Tim says, laughing. “I’m going to call Conner.”

“You got it, boss,” Jason says, flinging the covers off and heading for the bathroom. “I’ll be down when I’m done, and we can figure out what we’re doing next.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Tim replies, heading down the hall.

-0-

“This is not what I was expecting,” Jason says when he walks down the stairs fifteen minutes later. Conner nods at him from his perch on the computer console, and Jason turns to Tim. “When I said ‘call,’ I figured you’d use the phone.”

Tim shrugs. “This seemed faster.”

Jason snorts and looks back to Conner, all amusement fading from his face. “How is she?”

“She’s stable,” Conner says. “I flew her down to Baltimore instead of taking her to our clinic. They’ve managed to keep the surgical center at Johns Hopkins operational, and I figured that getting her care was more important than keeping her identity a secret.”

“Good call,” Jason says before Tim can reply. “Is she – will she be able to use her arm?”

Conner makes a teetering motion with his hand. “They’re pretty sure she’ll regain some functional use, but they have no idea how much that will be. They’ll know better when the swelling from the surgery goes down and they can do another scan.”

There’s a minute of silence while that sinks in. “She won’t regain full use. She won’t be able to do what she’s been doing her whole life.”

“I’m sorry,” Conner says, voice full of sympathy. “They weren’t sure they were going to be able to save her arm at all, Tim. I know it sounds kind of terrible, but this is good news.”

“If I had been a little faster,” Tim says hollowly. “If I had just been able to-”

“No,” Jason says, looking at Tim. “Thanks for the update, Conner. I don’t mean to kick you out, but I’m kicking you out.”

At the edge of his peripheral vision, Tim can see Conner standing from the console. Tim keeps his eyes on Jason rather than glancing Conner’s way. “But if I-”

“No,” Jason repeats. “Conner, if there’s nothing else-”

“Dick wanted me to tell you to leave Gotham,” Conner says quietly. “Damian said it too, in his own kind of special way. I wouldn’t tell either of you what to do, but…” He sighs. “There’s nothing left here for either of you.”

Tim turns to face Conner at that. “We have to stay, Conner. We have to help-”

“Tim,” Jason says. He’s a lot closer than he had been when Tim had last checked, and he’s not sure whether he should be blaming his dulled reflexes on his worry for Selina, his lack of sleep, or something else entirely. Tim looks up at Jason as Jason puts his hand on Tim’s shoulder. Jason squeezes his shoulder before speaking again. “Thanks, Conner. Keep us in the loop.”

Conner nods and takes off without another word, and Tim turns to Jason. “Why did you-”

Jason leans in and kisses him.

“Jason,” Tim says when Jason pulls back. Jason’s eyes are closed, and his expression is almost pinched.

“Look,” Jason says. He doesn’t open his eyes as he moves to rest his hands on Tim’s hips and leans in to touch their foreheads together. “I hated you, right? I mean, it was a long time ago, but I _hated_ you. You had everything that I thought was mine, and I-” He shakes his head. “But then everything went to hell in a handbasket. We lost Bruce, and it got worse than that.” He opens his eyes and looks down at Tim. “And then you called me, pretty much out of nowhere, and I had no clue what the hell I was supposed to think.”

Tim shakes his head slightly. He’s got no idea what Jason wants him to say, not for this. It’s funny, he thinks distantly, that he has no answers where Jason is concerned, beyond the need to keep trying, no matter what.

“You’re not anything like I thought you were,” Jason goes on. “I figured we’d fight all the time, disagree on every point of procedure and conduct and everything. I honestly thought we’d end up killing each other before Gotham got to us.” His smile is crooked on his face. “I was kind of okay with it, you know? Better than handing it over to one of the crazies out there.”

“Jason,” Tim repeats, but he’s still got nothing to add to that, nothing coherent to say.

“Let me finish,” Jason says, taking a breath and letting it out when Tim nods minutely. “So here I am, having this epiphany about how the guy I couldn’t stand was just the Robin suit, not the person in it. And the person in it is actually kind of hilarious when he’s not trying too hard, and he’s trying to save Gotham when there’s no hope for it, and he’s trying to find the line that none of us have ever been able to before, that line between the old way of doing things and the new way.” Jason smiles. “You’re something else. Kind of crazy, not gonna lie, but-”

This time it’s Tim who leans up and cuts Jason off with a kiss. “Rambling is a good look on you,” he says, smiling as Jason scowls down at him. “It was never easy for either of us, was it? And we didn’t make it any easier for each other.”

Jason squeezes Tim’s hips in his hands. “That’s a much simpler way of putting it,” he grumbles, but there’s amusement in his face. “I was getting there.”

“We’re there,” Tim replies. “What now?”

Jason shakes his head before finally pulling back. “Now I convince you that what happened to Selina wasn’t your fault. No,” he says when Tim opens his mouth to protest. “Blame the asshole who put his boot in her shoulder before he sliced her up. You don’t get to blame yourself for this one.”

“She wouldn’t have been there if he wasn’t my problem,” Tim mutters. “If I’d been able to take him out for real, she’d be fine.”

Jason shrugs. “Maybe, maybe not. Look at it this way: she’s out of the game, and she’s out of Gotham.” His lips curve into a small smile. “She’s probably safer right now than she’s been since before the Disasters hit.”

Tim huffs out a laugh. “Hell of a price to pay.”

“Gotham can’t hurt her anymore,” Jason says. “And I think – maybe we should really consider what Conner said.”

Tim narrows his eyes. “Jason, we have to stay.”

“We did,” Jason agrees. “Neither one of us could have left when Dick and Damian did. We both had things to finish up here. I think I’ve finally done all I need to.” He shrugs. “I know you haven’t, though. Boomerang is at the top of your list, and there’s no way you’ll leave while he’s still breathing. After, though…”

Tim drops his head until it’s resting against Jason’s chest. “I can’t leave while he’s here, but I can’t take him out, Jason.”

Jason hums and folds his arms around Tim’s waist. “I can help you with that.”

-0-

“You aren’t welcome here,” Ivy says. She’s stretched across the lowest branch of the tree in the middle of the rotunda area, perfectly situated so the moonlight highlights her through the cracks in the roof. It hadn’t been there the last time Tim and Jason had visited, and Tim doesn’t want to know how Ivy got a tree that large to grow in such a short time.

“We have another question,” Jason says.

“I gave you your answers,” Ivy replies, not moving from her perch. “You got one of your targets; the other got away, and it’s lucky enough that I wasn’t associated with you the first time. Why should I help you now, when you’ve proven that you can’t effectively take care of your own problems?”

Tim takes a deep breath. “Because when we’re done, when we’ve taken care of Boomerang, we’re leaving Gotham.”

Ivy is silent for a moment before she slips out of the tree. Her landing is light and graceful, and it’s too easy for Tim to think of the way Selina had always landed, the way she’ll never land again. He swallows and puts it out of his head as Ivy walks towards him. Her hand feels strange against his chin, like the velvety underside of the leaves on flower stalks, and her eyes are almost a glowing shade of green.

“You mean it,” she says, shock evident in her voice. “The children of the Bat are abandoning his city.”

“It’s not the city he always protected, and it hasn’t been for a while,” Jason growls. “It killed him. We’re not going to let it do the same to either of us.”

Ivy’s hand slips off of Tim’s face as she turns to face Jason, and for the first time since Tim has known her, the smile on Ivy’s face doesn’t feel like a threat. “I’ve known that for a long time now, little one. I’m just surprised that you’ve figured it out.”

Jason nods. “We’re smarter than we look sometimes.”

“Aren’t we all,” Ivy says, turning back to Tim. “You want to know where he’s hiding out.”

“We do,” Tim replies. “We’re prepared to take him out completely, Ivy. He won’t get back here to hurt you for telling us.”

Ivy purses her lips and nods. “You won’t come to see me after this,” she says, and it’s less of a question than a warning. “You’ll let Gotham return to her roots.”

“We’ll be gone as soon as we can,” Jason says. “You won’t have to deal with us anymore. Not the two of us, not our allies, not our family.”

“Then I’ll tell you,” she says, finally stepping away from Tim as she nods. “I’ll give you what you need.”

-0-

“I didn’t realize you had decided,” Jason says when they get back to the Cave. “I mean, I’m glad, don’t get me wrong. We left it at you thinking, though, and you usually think for longer than that.”

Tim takes his time removing his cape and hanging it up. He lets his fingers run through the thick material, trailing down the back before finally falling free. “I hadn’t decided. Not until right then.”

Jason lets out a breath. “I thought that might be it.” He grabs Tim’s wrist and tugs until Tim turns around. “Are you okay with that, or did you just figure that would get Ivy to give us Boomerang’s location?”

“Both?” Tim tries to laugh, but can’t quite manage it. “I mean, I knew that if we told her we were leaving, she’d give us what we wanted just to get rid of us, but…” He sighs. “Staying is going to kill us, really kill us. Dick was right. There’s nothing left here to save.”

“Do me a favor and never, ever tell him that,” Jason says, slipping an arm around Tim’s waist and pulling him close. “It’s true, though. There used to be a lot more here, but those people we found? They’re the exception, not the rule.”

“There’s nobody left here,” Tim says, squeezing his eyes shut. “It’s you and me and a city full of people who want us dead. Who are we protecting it for?”

“Us,” Jason says. “But we don’t have to. Not anymore.”

“Not anymore,” Tim agrees. “One last trap to spring, one last person to catch, and then we’re done.” He takes a deep breath. “I really have no idea how to feel about that. I’m a little relieved, in the back of my head.”

“I think that’s acceptable,” Jason says, squeezing him once more before stepping away and shedding his uniform. “Me, I’m feeling hungry.”

“Sandwich time?” Tim asks. “We’re going to have to use up that stash of peanut butter.”

Jason snorts. “No way we can do that in the next few days. We’re bringing it with us.”

-0-

The good thing is that after four days of careful planning and misdirection, they manage to catch Boomerang by surprise. The bad thing is that he’s still fast, and surprise can only take them so far.

“I wonder who keeps feeding you information,” Boomerang says, a nasty little smirk on his face. “I know better than to think it’s anyone in my circle, so that takes out a few of the more obvious ones.” He taps a finger against his mouth, then jumps to the side when Tim throws a batarang. “You’re going to have to try harder than that.”

“You’re not leaving this place, Boomerang,” Tim says, throwing another batarang, and another when Boomerang dodges. The third one clips his shoulder, but Boomerang turns with the force, minimizing the damage. “This is it. You’re done.”

“See, I think you’ve got it backwards,” Boomerang taunts, grabbing one of the fallen batarangs and throwing it at Jason. It bounces harmlessly off of his helmet, and the laugh that sounds out of it is spooky.

“No, I’m with Red on this one,” Jason says, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning back to watch the fight. “When he’s done playing with you, I’m going to shoot you in the head.”

Boomerang snarls wordlessly and grabs one of his own weapons from the toolbench, again throwing it at Jason, who barely dodges in time for the boomerang’s sharpened edge to slice into the wood of the wall rather than his arm.

“You’ve really got a thing for slicing arms up, don’t you?” Tim asks, grabbing his collapsible staff from its holster on his thigh and shaking it out to its full length. “Catwoman is going to be fine, by the way.”

“More’s the pity,” Boomerang sighs. “Well, I suppose she’s not your informant, then.” He smirks again, tilting his head to the side as he flips back over a table, putting space between him and Tim’s staff. “Hmm, is it Riddler? Nygma never could resist giving his little hints.”

Jason hums beneath his helmet. “Strike one.”

“Well I know it isn’t Killer Croc,” Boomerang says, throwing a boomerang at Tim before bending back under the staff. He moves backwards again, grinning. “He hates me, but he hates you more.”

“Congratulations,” Tim says, feinting a hit at Boomerang’s left shoulder, then directing it to the right when Boomerang moves to block it. “I’m not crying over that one.”

“He can be a powerful ally,” Boomerang says, wagging his finger as if he’s disappointed. “Your prejudice against him is appalling, really. He can’t help all the scales.”

“It’s the larceny and the murder that really put me off,” Jason says. “Red?”

“Yeah, not a fan of those,” Tim says, going for a kidney shot and just missing.

Boomerang grunts as Tim gets him in the stomach with his backswing. “Hatter, then. He always was a few cookies shy of a dessert table, If you get my meaning.”

“Wow, his jokes are even worse than Joker’s were at the end,” Tim comments. “I mean, he’s not known for them, but a little effort would have been nice.”

“I’m wounded, really,” Jason says. “He can’t even be bothered with putting forth the effort. Also, strike two.”

Boomerang grabs the end of Tim’s staff and jerks. Tim holds tightly the first time, but lets go the second, and the staff flies into Boomerang. He grunts as the staff hits him square in the chest. Tim grabs the end back before he can recover, hitting him in the chest again, then sweeping his legs out from beneath him. He rests the end of the staff against Boomerang’s windpipe and narrows his eyes. “Any last thoughts?”

“Ivy,” Boomerang says. “Might as well tell me the truth, boys. If you’re going to kill me, It was Poison Ivy who sent me to my death, right?”

“You want to know?” Jason asks, leaning in. “Here’s the truth: we tracked you down on our own, Boomerang, because we’re just that good.” He pulls the slide back on his gun and takes a step forward. “That was strike three, wasn’t it, Red?”

Tim nods, moving his staff to hit Boomerang in the head. Tim raps twice against his skull, and Boomerang’s eyes slide shut as he loses consciousness.

“Do it,” Tim says, turning to meet Jason’s eyes. He walks past Jason to the door, listening as Jason shoots three times, then holsters his gun.

Jason moves back to stand behind Tim. “He’s done, Red.”

Tim takes a deep breath, holds it for a moment, and lets it out in a rush. “Then so are we.”

-0-

It takes three days to pack up everything that they need to take. The backups of the computer and Oracle’s logs take up two boxes by themselves, and Tim finds himself constantly thinking of things that he wouldn’t be able to bear leaving behind.

“Seriously, baby bird,” Jason says, picking pieces of his old Robin suit out of one of the boxes in the Cave. “Nobody wants to see this thing.”

Tim takes it from Jason’s hand and refolds it. “I want to bring it,” he insists. “It’s history. It’s important.”

Jason sighs. “I guess I should just be happy you don’t think the giant penny is _important_.”

“If we had a place to take it,” Tim starts, but Jason rolls his eyes, so Tim gives up with a reluctant smile. “I’m almost done, I swear.”

“We’re almost out of things that aren’t bolted down,” Jason says, amused. “Conner is going to have some sort of heart attack when he sees all of this.”

“I’m pretty sure Kryptonians don’t have heart attacks,” Tim says, sealing the box and scribbling _Cave – misc._ on the side. “That might be the last of it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I – oh, no, wait,” Tim says, jogging back up the stairs. He’s had the photo albums in the same place for years, and it doesn’t take long to pry up the floorboards in the north corner of his room and dig them out. He carries them back down to the Cave and tugs a box open, rearranging the contents until the box closes again. He pats the side and looks up at Jason. “Okay, now I’m done.”

Jason raises an eyebrow and waits a few seconds before shaking his head and grinning. “I was expecting at least three more ‘no, wait’ moments out of you.”

“I reserve the right to have another one or two later,” Tim says, smiling. “I think we got everything, but you never know.”

“Well, if we settle in and figure out that we left something major, I’m sure we can get a first-class trip back courtesy of Air Superboy,” Jason says. “Considering how we’re moving to his town and helping with all his construction projects.”

“You’re doing construction. I’m going to work on setting up a lot of the technical aspects,” Tim says absently, checking his watch. Conner had said he’d be able to come by around two to start moving their things over to New Metropolis, and the closer it gets to that time, the more nervous Tim feels. “Apparently Damian has been ragging on their security systems for months now.”

Jason snorts. “And you really think that he’s going to get better when _you_ design something new and kickass?”

Tim shrugs. “He’ll have something different to complain about, at least.”

“You’re looking forward to it,” Jason accuses, more amused than anything. “You actually miss the little demon, don’t you?”

“You get used to him,” Tim says with a shrug. “If you look at his insults as terms of endearment, he’s almost a sweet kid.”

Jason bursts into laughter, tossing his head back and laughing up at the bats, who shriek and skitter in the top of the Cave. Tim grins, poking Jason in the shoulder, and Jason turns and slides his hands to Tim’s hips, still laughing.

“You know,” Jason says when he’s calmed down a bit, “this is a good thing. Getting out of Gotham, helping things along in a new place, you finally figuring out how to get along with the demon baby.”

“It worked for us, didn’t it?” Tim asks, smiling as he rests his hands on Jason’s chest. “We had to work together, and look how well we get along now.”

“You’d better not do this with him,” Jason mock threatens, leaning down to plant a kiss against Tim’s lips. “I’m pretty sure I won’t be the only one with words for you if that happens.”

“He’d bite me if I tried it,” Tim says matter-of-factly. “That’s at least third-date material.” Jason leans in again and nips at Tim’s lip, and Tim smiles against his mouth. “See? You can totally get away with that at this point.”

“You’d better believe I can,” Jason says, and Tim laughs and slips his hand around Jason’s neck, drawing him in for a long kiss.

Jason was right, Tim decides when they finally pull apart. This is going to be a good thing.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [when the music is gone](https://archiveofourown.org/works/553075) by [Firefox](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Firefox/pseuds/Firefox)




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